Chapter 2

Eve's POV

I woke up alone.

The sheets on Renault's side of the bed were cold, the kind of cold that meant he'd been gone for hours.

My hand drifted to the back of my neck without thinking, fingers tracing the broken skin there.

It stung when I pressed down, a sharp little bite of pain that radiated out toward my shoulders.

If I were a female wolf, that bite would've meant something.

A bond. A mark.

Proof that I belonged to someone, that someone had chosen me in a way the Moon Goddess herself recognized.

But I wasn't.

I was human, so all it meant was that my neck hurt and I'd need to keep my hair down for the next week.

I sat on the edge of the bed for a while, staring at nothing in particular.

The dawn light was starting to filter through the heavy curtains, pale and gray, and outside I could hear the estate waking up.

Footsteps in the hallway, steady and synchronized, the Gamma guards switching shifts.

They moved like a single organism, no wasted motion, no hesitation.

Even the sound of them made my shoulders tense.

Everyone in this place was a wolf.

Every single person could smell me, could smell what Renault had done to me, could smell that I didn't belong here no matter how many nights I spent in his bed.

I'd catch them looking sometimes, the staff, the guards, their eyes would land on me for half a second and then slide away like I was something uncomfortable to acknowledge.

Not hostile exactly, just... dismissive.

Like I was a stain on expensive fabric that no one wanted to deal with.

I wasn't one of them. I would never be one of them.

That had been true for a year now and it wasn't going to stop being true just because Renault had decided he wanted me within arm's reach at all times.

I thought about what he'd said last night.

Move in.

Bring your things here. Figure it out.

My stomach turned over.

I didn't know how to figure it out.

I didn't even know where to start.

The only thing I knew for sure was that I couldn't keep sitting here staring at the wall like it was going to give me answers, so I got dressed, pulled my hair carefully over the back of my neck, and went downstairs.

Breakfast was waiting in the smaller dining room, the one Renault never used.

I ate quickly, mechanically, barely tasting any of it.

One of the staff, a younger wolf with pale eyes and a permanent scowl, refilled my teacup without a word.

She didn't look at me.

Didn't acknowledge me beyond the function of her job.

When I thanked her she just walked away.

I left as soon as I could.

The enchanted car I called took twenty minutes to arrive, long enough that I stood outside the estate gates feeling like an idiot.

Which, to be fair, maybe I was.

The driver's expression shifted the moment I gave him the address.

He shot me a look in the rearview mirror, eyebrows climbing.

"Silverleaf Manor? That's cross-pack territory." A short, humorless laugh. "A human, bouncing between pack grounds like it's some kind of day trip. Do you have any idea what the checkpoint wait looks like on that route? This isn't what I signed up for."

"I know, I'm sorry." I leaned forward slightly, keeping my voice as pleasant as I could manage. "But it's really important. I'll make it worth your while. Double the fare."

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, jaw tight, not moving.

"Triple," I added quickly.

A long pause.

He exhaled through his nose, the kind of exhale that meant he'd already decided but wanted me to know he wasn't happy about it.

Then he shifted into drive and pulled out onto the main road without another word.

I watched Obsidian Estate disappear behind us through the back window.

The drive was long.

Long enough that my mind started to wander in directions I usually kept it away from.

My childhood had been normal, or what I thought was normal back then.

A village on the edge of the forest, small and quiet, the kind of place where everyone knew everyone and nothing much ever happened.

My parents were human, kind, careful.

They loved me.

I didn't know why they'd kept me so sheltered, why they never let me go into town with them, why my mother always braided my hair so tightly and covered it with a scarf.

I didn't find out until the fire took them when I was twelve.

Silver hair.

Green eyes.

The kind of combination that made people stare, made them whisper, made them decide I was cursed or dangerous or just too strange to be worth the trouble.

I got chased out of three towns in six months.

No one wanted to take in the weird kid with the witch eyes.

So I stopped asking.

I learned to steal instead.

Learned which market stalls were easy targets, which alleyways were safe to sleep in, how to make myself small and forgettable when I needed to.

I was good at it.

Good enough to stay alive, anyway.

Twelve to fourteen, just me, just survival.

And then I met him.

I shut my eyes hard, but it didn't matter.

The image was already there, overlaying itself on the memory of Renault's face the way it always did when I wasn't careful.

The way his head tilted when he was thinking.

The line of his jaw when he smiled. The particular softness in his expression when he looked at me like I wasn't something broken.

I opened my eyes.

Focused on the road outside, the buildings blurring past.

I pressed my palms flat against my thighs and made myself breathe. In through the nose, out slow, the way you do when you're trying to convince your body that everything is fine.

It took three tries before my chest stopped feeling like something was sitting on it.

But my eyes were already wet, and blinking didn't help.

The car slowed as we reached the edge of Silverleaf territory, and my chest tightened.

I paid the driver, thanked him quietly, and stepped out into the courtyard.

I made it three steps before I heard her voice.

"Well, well. Look who finally decided to come home."

I turned.

Vera was standing near the side entrance with two of the house staff.

She had her arms crossed, her expression somewhere between amused and contemptuous, and the two maids beside her were already smirking like they'd been waiting for this.

"Welcome home, sister," she said softly.

I stopped at the bottom of the steps.

"Your scent," Vera said, wrinkling her nose like she'd walked into something rotten, taking one small step back while her eyes moved over me without the slightest effort to disguise what she thought. "It's honestly offensive."