One night, my contracted partner, Alpha Marcus, claimed me for what felt like an eternity.

When he finally stilled, his hand clamped on my waist, his voice hoarse with satisfaction. "Raven," he rasped, "I want you to play the innocent, seductive little thing and go get Knox."

My whole body went rigid. I finally understood. Marcus's childhood sweetheart—and my friend—Vivian, had been dumped by Knox and was heartbroken.

He wanted me to be his weapon—to make Knox suffer the same pain of abandonment.

After my family's fall from grace and the waning of our bloodline's power, I became the contracted partner of Marcus, the Alpha of the Silverton Pack. I had naively believed that after three years by his side, I was special.

But he just sneered. "The only reason I keep you around is that the scent of your bloodline is almost identical to Vivian's. She's hurting, so it's time you made yourself useful."

Heartbroken, I agreed, swallowing all the fantasies I never should have harbored.

Soon enough, I had captured the heart of the famously cold and austere Knox.

And for the first time, Marcus lost control. He begged me through his tears, "Raven, I regret everything. Please... just come back to me."

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1

Marcus's hand gripped my waist, his voice thick with lust. "Raven, I want you to play the innocent, seductive little thing and go get Knox, the heir of the Ravencrest Pack."

I froze completely.

My gaze drifted up to him, my eyes red-rimmed and damp.

The sight only made his breathing hitch, triggering another, more ferocious wave of possession. After his frenzied assault, he finally stilled.

Sated, he held me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder, his hot breath fanning across my neck.

"Raven, you heard me, didn't you? Vivian is hurting. It's time for you to step up."

My body went stiff.

Vivian Cross was his childhood sweetheart. There was nothing Marcus wouldn't give her for the asking.

Just last night, while he was still inside me, Vivian had contacted him through the mind-link.

On the other end of the link, she was crying her eyes out, claiming Knox had dumped her.

Vivian was the kind of spoiled, vengeful she-wolf who always got even. She was determined to make Knox suffer the same sting of rejection and had sweetly asked Marcus for his help.

Of course, he didn't refuse.

Even as I was pinned beneath him, enduring his rough thrusts, he had softened his voice, soothing her with gentle promises.

So that was it. He wanted me to seduce Knox, only to dump him later, all to avenge Vivian.

I was merely his contracted partner. I had no right to refuse.

After the decline of my family, the Blackthorne Clan, my father had exiled himself, unable to bear the loss of his power.

On her way to find me, the ancient curse in my mother's body suddenly flared up. The curse plunged her into a deep sleep, her life sustained only by expensive suppressants.

With nowhere else to turn, I climbed into Marcus's bed.

That night, he was gentle, nothing like the cold, ruthless Alpha he was rumored to be.

Afterward, he tipped my chin up with his fingers and asked my name.

"Raven Blackthorne," I said, my voice trembling like any girl who had just gone through her first time.

He gave a faint smile. "Stay."

He gave me a black card with no credit limit and promised to cover all of my mother's medical expenses. He wiped away my tears, his thumb lingering on the beauty mark at the corner of my eye, and said softly, "Raven, you have me now."

From that moment on, I became his.

In our world, Marcus was notorious for his flings—he changed partners faster than the phases of the moon. But after me, he seemed to have settled down.

For three whole years, I was the only one by his side. I had truly started to believe I was different.

"Why?" my voice cracked with heartache.

He let out a low chuckle, his fingers tracing my lips as gently as they always did after we were intimate, but the words that followed were unspeakably cruel.

"Sweetheart, if the scent of your bloodline wasn't almost identical to Vivian's, you never would have made it into my bed. The only woman I'll ever claim as my mate is Vivian."

My throat closed up. A bitter taste filled my mouth. I had been so ridiculously naive.

I thought time could change anything. I thought three years was enough to replace the one he truly loved.

But all along, I was just her pathetic stand-in.

It felt as if an icy fist was squeezing my heart, tightening its grip until I could barely breathe.

When he saw the tears welling in my eyes, he frowned. "I don't like it when women get weepy."

My heart sank.

Marcus hated tears. He saw them as a weakling's ploy for sympathy.

His tone grew impatient. "Enough," he snapped. "It's just seducing a man. Who is this pathetic little show for?"

I bit my lip hard, tasting blood, and forced the tears back. My voice was dry and hoarse. "Okay."

I packed away all my foolish hopes, and I took back the heart I never should have given him.

The next day at noon, I was on the phone with my mother's care facility when the sharp click-clack of high heels echoed in the foyer, mingled with Marcus's low, easy laughter.

"Marcus, I brought you lunch," Vivian's sickly sweet voice announced.

My hand tightened on the phone. He had never laughed like that with me—so freely, so sweetly, as if his voice were dipped in honey.

And I had never dared to call him by his first name. It felt too intimate. To me, he was always my Alpha—distant, a man I could never truly reach.

He walked beside her, deliberately slowing his long-legged stride to match her shorter steps.

She tilted her head, saying something playful.

He leaned in closer, turning his face to her, listening with a tender smile playing on his lips.

The sight stung my eyes. The difference between being cherished and being used was a stark, physical pain.

"Oh, Raven, you're here too," Vivian said, her smile cloying.

I returned it with a stiff smile. "Vivian."

She pulled an exquisite box from her purse and handed it to me. "I heard about the little mission Marcus has for you with Knox," she purred. "I picked something out for you. I know his tastes better than anyone. He'll love this."

I opened the box. Inside was a set of black lace lingerie, so revealing it was barely decent.

It felt heavy in my hands as a wave of humiliation washed over me. Even Marcus's expression darkened, his brow furrowing slightly.

I guessed his annoyance stemmed from her claim of "knowing his tastes better than anyone."

No Alpha liked to hear his partner speak so casually about another man's preferences.

My throat tightened. "Thank you," I managed to force out.

But Vivian wasn't done. She wrapped her arm possessively around Marcus's and cooed:

"Raven, why don't you go try it on now? Let's see how it looks."

She smiled, the very picture of innocence. "That way I can give you some pointers. We have to make sure this is foolproof."

I stood frozen, clutching the box so tightly my knuckles turned white.

Marcus said nothing—his silence was a tacit approval.

In the dressing room, the mirror reflected a stranger. The black lace barely covered my chest, the straps were as thin as threads, and the cutouts at my waist revealed the dark bruises his fingers had left last night.

I took a deep breath and pulled open the door, walking straight into a roomful of leering eyes.

The living room was crowded with at least a dozen men and women, all heirs from powerful packs, lounging around.

Their gazes fell on me—a mixture of astonishment, mockery, contempt, and naked lust.

Vivian's eyes widened in feigned surprise as she covered her mouth. "Oh my god, Raven, I'm so sorry. It's my birthday tonight, and my friends insisted on coming over early. I had no idea you'd come out dressed like that. This is so awkward."

Her voice dripped with false apology, but her eyes glittered with triumph.

My face burned with shame. I instinctively tried to retreat back into the room.

But Vivian grabbed my wrist, pulling me out in front of everyone. "Don't be shy. Let everyone see Marcus's excellent taste."

The room erupted in laughter. One man let out a loud whistle. Phone cameras were raised, flashes going off.

"Hey, Marcus, is this the little thing you've been hiding? What a bombshell!"

"Damn, that body, that skin... puts those models to shame."

"I heard she used to be the jewel of the Blackthorne family. Looks like she'll do anything for money now."

The vulgar comments washed over me in waves, one after another.

"Didn't Raven used to be a dancer?" a man with bleached blond hair jeered. "Why not put on a little show for us?"

"Yeah, a dance to liven things up!" others chimed in, roaring with laughter.

Blinking back tears, I looked straight at Marcus.

He was leaning back on the sofa, Vivian nestled contentedly in his arms, laughing her head off.

But his eyes were dark, his lips pressed into a thin line. The platinum lighter he was toying with clicked open and shut, his hand trembling slightly—the only sign of the storm brewing inside him.

But he said nothing.

And in that silence, my heart sank deeper and deeper, into a cold, dark abyss.

Just then, my gaze landed on a figure in the crowd.

Knox sat in the farthest corner of the room, dressed in a simple white shirt. His posture was cool and aloof, with an innate air of nobility, his brows tightly furrowed.

A sudden, reckless impulse seized me.

If I have to seduce him, why not start now?

I steadied my breathing, forcing my voice to be calm. "All right. I'll dance. But I need a partner."

All eyes followed my finger as it pointed to the man in the corner. "Him."

With a sharp clink, Marcus's lighter fell to the floor.

His gaze snapped to me, dark and vicious.

Even Knox seemed startled, completely caught off guard.

Before anyone could react, I walked forward barefoot, approaching Knox with a deliberate, practiced grace. The tips of his ears were red, but he didn't pull away when I took his hand and led him to the center of the room.

The brushed fabric of his trousers grazed my bare calf—a feather-light touch that ignited a spark deep inside me.

The music started.

Marcus shot to his feet.

I leaned close to Knox's neck, letting out a soft, suggestive laugh. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marcus's fists clench, his knuckles white, as an Alpha's aura of dominance began to bleed into the air.

Vivian turned her face up to speak to him, but his eyes were glued to me, a violent emotion churning in their depths.

Just as I tried to decipher that emotion, he turned his head... and pressed a kiss to Vivian's forehead.

My fingers traced a path across Knox's chest, both accidental and deliberate, as I pressed my body against his. I could feel his stiffness, his uneven breaths.

Cheers and whistles erupted from the room.

Marcus's face grew darker and darker, his gaze searing, like a flame about to consume everything.

Then, just as I spun in Knox's arms, about to fall into his embrace—the music cut off abruptly.

Marcus stormed forward and yanked me violently from Knox's arms. He tore off his own jacket and wrapped it crudely around me, covering my exposed skin.

"That's enough," he roared, his voice thick with barely suppressed fury.

Something fragile fluttered in my chest. Was he... jealous? Did he actually care?

But then I saw Vivian's reddened eyes, her face a mask of hurt and grievance.

The answer was obvious.

It wasn't me he cared about. It was his perfect Vivian. He couldn't bear to see her hurt.

Of course—I had just performed a blatantly intimate dance with her ex-boyfriend right in front of her. How could she not be hurt?

Marcus swept the room with a cold, commanding glare, releasing his Alpha's dominance.

"Get out. All of you, get out."

The room cleared in an instant. Vivian stayed behind, opening her mouth to say something, but he silenced her with a look. She shot me a venomous glare, stomped her foot, and stormed out.

In a blink, the vast living room was empty, save for the two of us.

Marcus's hand clamped around my wrist, and he dragged me mercilessly toward the bedroom.

My back slammed against the wardrobe. His fingers gripped my chin, his hot, ragged breaths fanning my face. "Did you enjoy that? Dancing for him?"

"Raven," his voice was low and dangerous, filled with menace, "did you dare to seduce another man right in front of me?"

I pushed against his chest, struggling. "Isn't this what you asked me to do? I was just getting a head start on my mission."

A dangerous glint flashed in his eyes. The next second, he threw me onto the bed, his body looming over me.

With a vicious rip, the thin lace was torn to shreds.

As the sound of tearing fabric echoed in the air, I stared blankly at the crystal chandelier above. My mind drifted back to a Pack celebration when I was seventeen. I was dancing, and I felt a gaze on me—hot enough to set the entire spring ablaze.

"You're just a thing I bought with a contract," he hissed. "You do what I say. You stop when I say stop. You don't have the right to refuse."

Every word was like a pair of pliers, squeezing my heart, tighter and tighter.

He was right. I was just a purchased substitute. What right did I have to fight back?

Marcus stopped talking. He claimed me with a punitive fury, every movement filled with retaliation as his canines sank into the scent gland on my neck, forcing his scent into my bloodstream.

And I just lay there, motionless, staring at the ceiling as silent tears slipped from my temples into my hair.

When he finally noticed my utter stillness, he froze, his forehead resting against the crook of my neck.

Then, I felt a hot drop of liquid fall onto my skin.

His voice was trembling, apologetic and hoarse.

"I'm sorry, Raven. I lost control... I just—"