KYRIE.

"What the fuck do you mean, Cole?" I snarled, my fists slamming into the punching bag like it owed me something. My knuckles burned, but I didn't stop. The fury needed an outlet.

"Deals run outside of the club isn't the club's business. No one seems to have even noticed you in the club, let alone know which of the girls you left with," Cole explained from the other end of the line. "It wasn't flagged."

I hit the bag harder, and it rocked violently on the chain.

"Most girls tend to cheat the club. They secretly leave with clients and keep the whole buck to themselves. I guess that's what she did," He added, and I felt more adrenaline pumping through my body.

Fuck!

That night at the RavenSquare Pack – some rundown, barely-breathing scrap of a territory – changed everything.

Saint and I had just gone there to keep an eye on our latest target, and after the day's job, we decided that having a good fuck won't be a bad idea.

It was meant to be something casual, just to let off steam and stress, like we always do, but somehow, it went way above that.

That mysterious woman did one of the things the people of that pack were good at... Stealing.

She stole my fucking heart. My mind. My goddamn soul.

When I woke up that morning, she was gone. I was disappointed, to say the least. But Saint's anger over his stolen wristwatch hijacked any chance I had to look for her. And we had to return to the pack first thing that morning to attend to an emergency.

That was how I lost her.

At first, I thought it was the sex and how I'd felt when I fucked her. I thought I just craved her some more. I had concluded that, perhaps, I just liked the way she gave in to us, the way her lips parted when I thrust into her, even as Saint stuffed his cock into her mouth...

But as days went by, I found out that it was way more than that. Because something twisted in me that night. And I haven't been able to cut out since then.

Because while Saint fucked her like a machine, I caught her looking at me.

Through the mask she wore, only her eyes were visible. But God, those eyes. Blue, deep, and endless. Like they could swallow every reason I had to keep it casual.

She looked at me like I was more than a cock and a paycheck.

I shouldn't feel this way about someone who let two men split her open for cash. But, fuck, I did.

Saint wants her dead. He vowed to slit her throat the second she crossed our path again.

I've watched Saint kill. He never hesitates. And when he says he'd kill someone, he kills them.

The emotionless bastard was born on the day of the Blood Moon. He wasn't just physically different from the rest of us... He also lacked emotions and empathy. The dude gets off by causing people pain and spilling blood.

But I would never let him harm her.

I had already offered countless times to replace the Rolex she stole. I even offered him any model he wanted, even custom pieces, but he was adamantly attached to the stolen one. He could fuck off for all I care.

Saint's anger isn't just about the stolen watch. The problem with Saint is... What belongs to him, he keeps. People. Loyalty. Objects. Name it.

One stolen item, like a Rolex, isn't about the object. It's about the power imbalance he cannot tolerate.

I think it's time to visit that town again. But I'll do that just after Alpha Rollins' marriage to his newfound love.

Saint was never interested in knowing who his new stepmother was going to be. He never even made an attempt to research her background or anything about her.

He just concluded that he didn't give a fuck about her because she was from that town.

Typical Saint.

But I did, though. I ran a quick background check on his behalf. And when I returned, he hadn't even let me give him details about her. He waved it off, saying he knew the primary reason I had gone there in the first place was to look for my enchantress.

He wasn't wrong, though. But I had used one stone to kill two birds. Wasn't it worth it?

The only information Saint let me pass to him was the fact that the woman's name was Jovie, and that she had a daughter.

Well, I did my best.

***

As the Beta, it was my job to make sure everything ran smoother than Saint's temper, and this morning, it was already a goddamn mess.

Past 7 a.m., and the ceremony grounds still looked half-dressed, like a bride caught mid-change. The decorators were crawling around like headless ants, and not a single centerpiece looked remotely like the mock-ups. Didn't Alpha Rollins say he hired one of the best in town?

Bullshit.

If Saint would just put his pride in his fucking pocket for one day... if he could set aside his bitterness and do this for his father, I won't be under this much pressure!

But no. I could bet my balls Saint was buried in some warm cunt right now, probably balls-deep and ignoring his damn responsibilities to his father!

I stormed toward the Alpha's apartment. At least there, the maids knew what they were doing. The drapes were up, the silverware gleamed, and the bedroom was already made up for the new bride. The scent of lavender and fresh polish filled the place. Everything was in its place.

Perfect.

We had also sent out convoys to go get the bride in a grand style from RavenSide. They should be here in two hours.

Satisfied that everything wouldn't fall to shambles without me for ten minutes, I quickly excused myself. I had to freshen up in time to join the occasion. It was barely 40mins more, and I wouldn't want to miss even a second of it.

***

*

"Jesus fucking Christ!"

I didn't mean to yell the moment I walked into his goddamn house, but I couldn't help it.

The air stank of sex and smoke. Moans filled my ears. A bottle of something expensive rolled off the coffee table, dripping amber on the rug.

I wasn't wrong. He was in the middle of two women who were also fucking each other like the world was ending in five minutes.

Flat on his knees on the oversized bed, head tilted as he blew a slow stream of smoke from his lips with his hips snapping ruthlessly into a blonde on all fours.

His one hand fisted in her hair, the other gripping her hip like he was trying to rip her in half, steadying her as he pounded in hard enough to rock the bedframe. Her cheek was mashed into the mattress, smeared lipstick bleeding into the white sheets, and a long string of drool clinging to her chin.

Beneath him, she whimpered, begged, and shook, but he didn't even blink. He just dragged in a long pull from his cigarette, smoke curling from his lips like a demon exhaling fire.

And beside them? The other one, raven-haired and wrecked in the eyes, was kneeling at their side, stroking her own dripping cunt like she needed Saint to watch. Her mouth crashed into the blonde's whenever he slammed forward like she was kissing the orgasm right out of her lungs. Her other hand rolled the blonde's tits, occasionally trailing down Saint's abs like she wanted to be the next in line.

"Saint!" I snapped, slamming the door shut behind me. I could barely hear myself over the moaning, slapping, panting mess.

He didn't bother to answer. He just gave the blonde's ass one brutal slap and kept going like I was another piece of furniture in his palace of debauchery.

I stormed over, snatched the joint from his lips, crushed it between my fingers, and flicked it to the floor.

"Having a goddamn threesome on the morning of your father's wedding?" I bit out, kicking the door shut behind me. "You know some old-school Lycans consider that fucking bad luck?"

That finally earned me a slow, cold look. That same dead-eyed stare that made his soldiers buckle and pack members piss themselves.

But me? I'd seen him bloodied, drunk, broken, and even worse. I wasn't afraid of his fucking stare.

His pale eyes dragged up to mine, very unimpressed, almost as if I'd interrupted his meditation, not his fuck session.

"That look doesn't work on me," I muttered. "Save it for the rest of the world." I signaled for the girls to scurry out immediately.

"What the fuck, Kyrie?" Saint breathed, sitting back on the bed.

"Get dressed. The bride arrives in..." I checked my watch, sighed, and then looked back at his filthy, smug, sex-drunk face. "...Fifteen minutes."

EVE.

"Thank you, Eve."

Mum's voice wobbled as her hand tightened around mine. She held me ever so softly like she was holding on to more than just fingers.

"...For being strong. For being a good girl." Her eyes shimmered. "You never brought shame to me, even though I... I couldn't be the best mother to you."

The smile she gave was so full of love, so tender it scraped the inside of my chest.

I looked away for a second, just to breathe.

But it didn't help.

Oh, God.

She was going to make me cry.

And I wasn't crying because I was touched.

I was crying because I was guilty.

Because I didn't deserve those words.

She thought I was good.

To her, I was still her sweet, innocent daughter... the untouched virgin who waited patiently for life to reward her... The perfect girl with high grades, folded laundry, and a smile that melts the heart.

If only she knew how much of a whore her sweet daughter had been, She'd recoil and cry for real.

If only she knew that I had to peel my clothes off in front of two men I'd never seen before... To trade the last of my self-worth for a night I can't forget... To gag on the taste of powerlessness and pretend I was okay while their hands forced me into every position they wanted.

Even though my encounter was just for a night, I still considered myself filthy. I still feel dirty, like I'm dragging the stench of that hotel room behind me everywhere I go. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't scrub the filth off my skin, not even after a hundred showers.

Though the money I got that night helped me solve my school problems, I still couldn't get over the fact that I had to whore myself to get it.

"It's okay, Mum..." I said, swallowing the burn rising in my throat. "We can't keep doing this every day."

But she shook her head slowly, smiling through her tears. "No, baby. We should." she smiled sadly, "Do you know what it means, being the envy of every woman in Lanry Side pack? You are the golden child, baby. You. And I'm happy we're finally leaving there with that pride still intact. Keep making Mum proud, okay?"

She smiled through her tears, cupping my cheek. Her hands smelled faintly of lavender.

I nodded slowly. A tear broke free and slid down my cheek.

She caught it with her thumb before I could.

"Today marks a new beginning for us," she whispered, more hopeful than I'd seen her in years. "I'm certain you'll love our new pack."

She was glowing and beaming like a girl on her wedding day.

She has been very enthusiastic about her marriage to former Alpha Rollins. It was her fresh start, her reward for surviving hell and raising me almost alone.

And I also couldn't tell how happy I've been, because, I'll finally leave that pack and all the bad memories, including those men who couldn't stop looking for me.

*

From the moment we crossed the pack's border, I couldn't breathe right.

It was... dazzling. A scene straight out of a fairytale, but realer, cleaner, and impossibly curated like a picture someone kept trying to perfect. My pulse quickened as I watched it all glide past the car window like a dream I wasn't meant to touch.

I'd only heard about this territory, but I never had the chance to visit. It wasn't a place for a certain class of people. Not to mention my own class, who lived at the edge of the country. We were usually considered the country's outcasts, where so many evil things could be found.

Lanry Side was the stain no one wanted to associate with, but how my Mum met my new stepfather is still a wonder to me. And now, here I was, clutching the hem of my dress like it might disappear if I breathed too loud.

As we drove toward the pack house, I had already taken notes of a lot of things... The Alpha's attention to detail. It was almost as if every house ever built in the pack had to undergo scrutiny and evaluation, because, tell me, why did every house we passed look like it had been hand-carved by God Himself? White picket fences. Clean stone paths. Flowers that looked fake until the breeze made them sway.

No cracks. No odd paints. No stray dogs. I couldn't even see trash bins. It was like the whole place ran on perfection.

Everywhere buzzed with busy people, obviously preparing to welcome their new bride. I already felt like a princess.

As we rolled toward the pack house – more like a mansion dipped in glass and sunlight – I found myself cataloging every detail, and the moment we stepped out of the car, a bevy of girls hurried toward us. They welcomed us warmly, and they all were putting on a uniformed outfit... Flowery dresses... They were obviously meant to walk the bride down the aisle. They were around my age, and I was already the center of their attention.

"Welcome! Oh my goddess, you're stunning," one of them squealed, fingers already in my hair. "What do you use? Your hair's so luscious. Like... enchanted."

"Thank you, I..." My voice cracked, nerves clawing up my throat.

"We'll be having a little party after the wedding. Care to join?"

Mum couldn't stop smiling. She knew this part of me - the one that drew people in, and made strangers feel like they'd known me forever. I used to love it too... before I learned the kind of attention it could attract.

***

SAINT.

I adjusted the cuffs of my black shirt, straightened the collar, and gave myself one last look in the mirror. I looked immaculate and lethal.

To crown it all, I grabbed my perfume – Obsidian Sin by Sartieux. Ten thousand dollars a bottle. A scent banned in three packs for being too... distracting.

I always say this... If they don't remember your name, they'll remember your scent.

Before I speak, they'll smell me. And they'll know who owns the fucking room.

I stepped out into my living room, still adjusting the cuff of my sleeve, when I caught Kyrie mid-breath, about to scream his lungs out at my door like he was some damn town crier.

"Hold it," I said coldly.

His mouth flattened. "Saint, we're thirty minutes fucking late."

"And?" I didn't break stride. "They should be grateful I'll be gracing the occasion."

He scoffed and leaned in, taking a slow, exaggerated sniff. "You trying to get us banned too, Saint? Fucking hell... You smell like sin bottled in glass."

I smirked. "Good. Means it's working." I walked past him, unbothered.

Kyrie kept pace beside me, muttering something about how the whole pack was probably going crazy, thinking I wasn't in support of my father's wedding, but all of it blurred into white noise.

The venue came into view. It was in the open air, beside the artificial waterfall I had constructed four years ago.

They were already at the vows. And at the altar, my father - Alpha fucking Rollins – was holding hands with the woman he was about to make my stepmother.

He was smiling so fucking sheepishly at her that I almost gagged. I kept walking nonchalantly toward the seat reserved for me, until I saw her...

My body locked mid-step.

That face.

That mouth.

That goddamn body I hadn't been able to scrub out of my memory, no matter how many women I buried myself in.

She looked so young and innocent, but I was never going to be fooled. She was not innocent. Not after what we had done with her that night.

My steps stopped. Everything stopped.

Blood roared in my ears as I muttered, "What the fuck..."

And then... as if summoned by the devil himself, she turned, and our eyes met.

Fuck. Those eyes.

It was truly her. The girl from eight months ago... The fucking thief!

She was standing next to my father's bride, wearing a sweet little dress, almost looking like someone didn't know how to gag on sin.

And right there, in that split-second, I saw a crack in her soul. Fear. Terror. Recognition.

She remembered me. Even though I knew she thought deep down that I hadn't recognized her, she still held my gaze, emitting an unhealthy amount of fear that only I could smell.

Kyrie paused beside me, sensing something shift. "Yo, what's going on?"

I didn't answer.

Because Kyrie couldn't know that the girl standing next to my father's bride was the same girl we'd both been looking for all these months.

I'd be a fucking fool to let him know, because, I was about to kill her in more ways than one.

EVE.

"Breathe, Eve... Just fucking breathe..."

I'd been whispering that mantra for over two hours now, over and over again, ever since I saw him.

No. No, no, no. There's no way in hell he'd recognize me.

I had a mask on that night. A thick velvet one. And even when it slipped halfway through, they were too busy to notice anything beyond what they were doing to me.

But then... why the hell had he been staring at me without blinking or moving? Like a predator who'd just found the scent of the prey that got away.

His eyes.

God. His eyes.

He'd been watching my every move. His cold, deathly steel grey eyes sent chills down my spine, piercing through layers I didn't even know I had. Every time I dared glance in his direction, he was watching me, almost as if he was waiting for me to run.

I mean... These men have been looking for me for months now. There is no way I'd give myself up to be caught and punished by them. Although the other man didn't show any sign of surprise or anger when he looked at me. He just kept looking blankly at me, almost like he was digging through a fog, trying to place me, but his wasn't as bad and as disturbing as the Alpha's. Maybe because he had the same kind of dark shades he had on that night at the club, and it was making it a bit impossible for me to even tell the exact intensity of his eyes... But from his facial expression, he seemed... clueless?

Saint's eyes weren't just curious. They were freaking confirming!

And that was when I knew I was fucked.

Yes. Saint is the Alpha. And yes, his name is Saint... What an irony for a person who is as dark as a demon. I asked Mum the moment I saw him, and she confirmed to me that he was Saint, my stepbrother. Every drop of blood in my veins froze.

There is no way in hell this monster is my stepbrother.

Wait. No. I had to come up with a solution... I'd rather go back to Lanry Side than be in this pack.

My stomach twisted as I felt the heat of his gaze trailing down my spine again, like a hand brushing my skin without touching me. I had to leave.

I was going to be sick.

"Excuse me," I let out a nervous chuckle as I walked past the kind guests who were fanning around me and Mum, welcoming us into the pack.

I was practically breathing through a straw, and I needed space.

"Where are you going, honey?" My stepfather asked, and I swallowed nervously.

"Uh... I have to use the convenience," I smiled. He was so sweet, and he was nothing like his son.

I could hear the panic in my voice and prayed he couldn't. He nodded toward the far end of the courtyard. "Take the next left after the pillar. Do you want someone to walk you..."

"No!" I blurted out before I could stop myself. "No. I'm good. Thank you."

I turned before he could ask anything else and walked out of the premises, where the monster's eyes trailed my every move.

The moment I stepped into the convenience, I released a breath I had been holding for God knows how long.

My knees nearly buckled.

I gripped the edge of the sink, bent over it like I'd just run a marathon. My chest heaved in frantic bursts. It's not like the air in here was much better, but at least it wasn't thick with his scent and his suffocating presence.

Alpha Saint.

I twisted the faucet and splashed cold water on my face, once, twice, a third time. But it didn't help. My skin was on fire. My heart was trying to claw its way out of my chest.

He knows. He fucking knows. No one can tell me otherwise! God!

My hands trembled as I reached for the hand towel. The shaking was so violent that I dropped it. I stared at my fingers like they belonged to some weak little girl who couldn't keep it together.

Biting my nails – that old nasty habit – came like muscle memory. I pressed the edge of my nail between my teeth, harder than necessary. The sting grounded me. The familiar pressure pulled me away from the spiraling.

Inhale. Exhale. Again.

I glanced up at the mirror, catching my reflection – wide eyes, dilated pupils, flushed cheeks. I looked like prey, and I hated it.

A tear welled up, threatening to betray me.

I wiped it away so fast that it barely touched my cheek.

"No," I whispered. "Not now."

This was supposed to be a fresh start and a new chapter for us. My mother was finally happy again. We were safe. Or so we thought.

I had worked so hard to bury that night. And here it was, digging itself back out from the grave I'd tried to leave it in.

I can't be the one to ruin my mother's happiness. I had to leave and get out of this godforsaken pack.

I'd tell Mum tonight, after the ceremony, that I couldn't stay. I'd cry if I had to, and beg. It wouldn't be easy to convince her because she would never want me to return to the same town where my abusive stepfather was. But I'm certain I'd be able to convince her.

I am so damn grateful that the transfer letter from my old school hasn't been approved yet. That means I am not tied here yet. If I act fast enough, I could go back. I'd show up on Monday and tell them to cancel the transfer. Easy.

I could fix this.

I closed my eyes and took one final, deep breath, bracing myself for the rest of the ceremony.

I unlocked the stall and stepped toward the exit when the main door to the convenience swung open.

I turned, slowly, praying to every God I never believed in that it wasn't...

But it was.

It was him.

He just stood there in the doorway like a shadow carved from stone, his hands carefully tucked into his pockets. He was tall and broad, dressed in black from head to toe, as if mourning something. Or about to bury someone... Me, maybe.

His eyes pinned me in place – those cold, inhuman eyes.

My throat dried. My hands went ice-cold. My back hit the counter without me realizing I was backing away.

I couldn't breathe.

I wasn't even sure my heart was still beating.

His eyes locked on mine like he could see straight through me... straight through the flesh, the bones, into the filth I thought I'd buried deep, into the things I told myself no one would ever remember.

'Say something,' I begged silently. Scream. Threaten me. Do anything. Just speak. Please...

I was seconds away from a full-blown panic attack when he tilted his head ever so slightly and let out the smallest, quietest scoff. Almost amused.

And then, in a voice so low, so deceptively calm, he finally spoke.

"You thieving whore."