Chapter 3

I didn't go back to the house that night.

I drove instead to the only twenty-four-hour boutique in Silverfall that carried anything worth buying, parked under a flickering streetlight.

I sat in the car for exactly three minutes, talking myself out of what I was about to do.

Then I went inside anyway.

The saleswoman behind the counter looked up from her phone. She took in my appearance — the casual clothes, the red-rimmed eyes I hadn't bothered to hide — and arranged her expression into something professionally neutral.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes." I set my card on the glass counter. Not the account Ethan knew about. The other one — the Ashwood family account my father had reinstated within ten minutes of our phone call, with a balance that would have made Ethan's jaw drop. "I need shoes."

She led me to a locked display case near the back of the store.

"These arrived yesterday," she said, lifting the lid. "Louboutin limited edition. Midnight blue. Only two pairs in Silverfall."

The heels caught the light like water catching moonlight.

Subtle, devastating, exactly the kind of thing I'd spent three years telling myself I didn't need.

"I'll take them."

Emily Torres had been kind to me — never joining in when other pack members whispered about my orphan status.

When she'd called to invite me to her farewell party, she'd said you've always been kind to me in a voice that suggested she knew exactly how rare that was.

I owed her a proper goodbye.

I also owed myself the chance to walk into a room wearing thirty thousand dollars on my feet.

The pack hall was full when I arrived — crystal chandeliers, expensive wine, the particular hum of a social gathering where everyone is performing slightly harder than necessary.

I found Emily near the entrance, hugged her, and pressed a jewelry box into her hands.

"Vera, this is too much—" She widened her eyes as she opened it.

"It's not." I squeezed her hands. "You deserve it. All of it."

We talked for a few minutes before the room went quiet.

Everyone turned to look at the door.

I followed their gazes and found Ethan standing in the doorway.

His arm was draped around a woman I recognized from the single photograph I'd found three years ago — golden hair, emerald eyes, the loose confidence of someone who had never once doubted her welcome in any room she entered.

Lena.

She moved the way beautiful women move when they know they're being watched and have decided to give the audience their money's worth.

Her dress was deep blue, her heels—

My heels.

Identical.

The same midnight blue shimmer.

The same Louboutin limited edition.

Two pairs in Silverfall, the saleswoman had said.

I looked down at my own feet. Back up at Lena's.

Across the room at Ethan, who had just found me in the crowd and gone the color of old chalk.

He jerked his arm away from Lena so fast she stumbled sideways.

"Vera." His voice cracked on my name. "What are you doing here? I didn't know you—"

"Emily's my friend." I kept my voice pleasant. "Why wouldn't I come?"

His eyes dropped to my shoes, then to Lena's.

A muscle jumped in his jaw.

Lena recovered faster than he did. She always would — that was the thing about women who've never had to scramble. She glided forward with a smile designed to be mistaken for warmth and extended one hand toward me.

"You must be Vera. I'm Lena." The smile held perfectly. "I'm sure Ethan's mentioned me."

Barely. "Nice to meet you."

"Has anyone ever told you we look alike?" Her laugh was light, practiced. "It's quite striking, really."

Ethan's jaw tightened.

Our resemblance had never been something he wanted discussed.

"Oh, my god." Lena's gaze traveled down, and her eyes landed on my feet. "We're wearing the same shoes."

"How coincidental," I said calmly, looking at her.

"Though I have to say — I don't really see the resemblance." I tilted my head slightly. "Between us, I mean."

Another pause.

"I'm prettier."

Someone inhaled sharply.

Ethan's face darkened.

Lena's smile faded.

I turned back to Emily under her gaze.

"Tell me about the new pack," I said, as if I'd simply talked about the weather. "Is it far?"

I stayed for exactly one hour.

Long enough to feel Ethan's eyes tracking me from across the room.

When I left, I didn't say goodbye to him.

I was almost to the parking lot when I heard footsteps behind me — not Ethan's, lighter than that.

I turned.

It was Jake.

He stopped a few feet away and looked at me.

"Vera."

"Jake."

He glanced back toward the hall, then at me.

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough," I said.

He nodded slowly and looked at the ground. "For what it's worth—"

"It's not," I said, not unkindly. "But thank you."

I walked to my car, started the engine, and pulled out of the lot.

On the passenger seat, my phone lit up.

Not Ethan — he'd been texting for the past forty minutes, a string of messages I hadn't opened. This was a different notification.

A news alert, the kind the Lycan King's office released through official pack channels.

Blackwood Royal Office: His Majesty Caelan Blackwood arrives in Silverfall for a three-day diplomatic visit. No public appearances scheduled.

I read it twice.

Three-day diplomatic visit.

Caelan had told me he'd be in Silverfall tomorrow. That message had come through before this announcement. Before any official notification.

Which meant he hadn't been planning a diplomatic visit.

He'd been planning to be here for me specifically and had arranged the paperwork around it afterward.

I set the phone down on the passenger seat and stared at the road ahead.

Nine years.

He'd worn a ring with my initial for nine years.

And now he'd rearranged his schedule as Lycan King around the possibility that I might finally be ready to come home.

I picked up my phone and typed one word.

[Tomorrow.]

I sent it to Caelan's number before I could change my mind, pulled out of the parking lot, and drove toward a life I should have chosen three years ago.