Chapter 2

That day, my best friend Eileen stumbled across a recommended hairstyle video on her phone. She insisted she was tired of my long, straight black hair and, dragged me to the salon. The poor stylist barely had time to blink before Eileen was waving the phone in front of her face, declaring that I needed a "refresh." And just like that, years of my familiar locks were snipped away, dyed a golden shade I never would’ve chosen myself.

In the afternoon, I met with Alpha Jasper. The moment he saw me, something flickered across his face—surprise, confusion, something else I couldn’t quite place. His eyes locked onto me, but his gaze felt distant, as if he were looking through me, at something—or someone—else entirely.

Frowning, I waved a hand in front of his face. “Earth to Jasper. What’s on your mind? You’re zoning out. Which movie are we watching later?”

“I was just thinking,” Alpha Jasper said slowly, refocusing on me. His hand lifted, brushing over the top of my head, the touch lingering just a second too long. “This hairstyle… it suits you.”

The warmth in his voice sent a delighted shiver through me. That night, I clung to Eileen, gushing about it for hours.

But now, as I sat at my birthday dinner, wrapped in the red dress Alpha Jasper had gifted me, I wasn’t feeling as certain.

This morning, when he handed me the box, my heart had fluttered at the sight of the deep red YSL lipstick inside. Next to it was a small note, Alpha Jasper’s usually neat handwriting slightly rushed, two tiny hearts sketched at the bottom.

Honestly, the moment I pulled out the dress, my first instinct had been to refuse. I shook my head, already picturing myself in the French-style dress my mom had given me—white, lace embellishments, delicate and soft, much more my style.

But then Alpha Jasper had cupped my cheek, his thumb grazing my skin, and his eyes—usually so unreadable—held something almost pleading.

“Just this once, okay? Cynthia, just for today—wear it for me?”

Alpha Jasper wasn’t the type to beg.

Whether at university or the packhouse, he was always distant, unreadable. Girls admired him but never dared to confess. I had been the same, crushing on him for two silent years. Even after we got together, Alpha Jasper remained restrained.

A fleeting hug, a chaste kiss—his affections were subtle, controlled.

But today, when I stepped out in that red dress, Alpha Jasper had reacted differently.

He had shot up from his chair like he’d been struck. His gaze burned as it raked over me, raw and unguarded. Then, in a blur of movement, he had me in his arms, his lips crashing onto mine in a kiss unlike any before—intense, desperate, utterly possessive. My wolf had purred in satisfaction, but I was left reeling.

Now, seated at the dinner table, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

Alpha Jasper plucked a piece of chicken from the platter, carefully removed the skin—he knew I didn’t like it—then blew on it lightly before placing it onto my plate.

My heart swelled at the familiar gesture. He still cares. He still—

And then I looked across the table.

Sienna.

The man who had been laughing and chatting with her earlier was now carefully picking the green peppers out of her dish, the same way Alpha Jasper had done for me.

Sienna sat there, completely at ease, batting her thick lashes as she cast a glance in our direction—deliberate, smug.