Chapter 2
(Serena’s POV)
I stared blankly at the slight curve of his eyes, my heart still hammering so hard in my chest it made my ears ache.
Clara was pacing restlessly in my head, a threatening growl rumbling in her throat. “Something’s wrong, Serena. Those images just now were too real. I can still feel the pain of my heart being torn apart.”
I lowered my eyes to the watch on my wrist. February 14th, 9:40 p.m.
Miles and I had only just gotten married not long ago. In all our time together, he had never even spoken harshly to me, never once looked down on my mother for being fully human, and never once treated me badly for being only a half-blood werewolf.
Could those horrifying scenes really have been nothing more than some absurd nightmare?
I drew in a deep breath, forced down the tight bitterness in my throat, and managed a strained smile at him.
“It was probably too stuffy in the car. I dozed off and had a pretty scary dream.”
“Silly girl. I’m here, aren’t I? No dream can hurt you.” Smiling, Miles squeezed my palm, then stepped on the gas again and pulled up in front of the banquet steps. “We’re here. Go touch up your makeup in the restroom. I’ll wait for you in the hall.”
I unfastened my seat belt and got out, my legs still a little unsteady.
Inside the first-floor restroom, I turned on the tap, scooped up a handful of cold water, and splashed it over my face.
When I looked up at the mirror, the woman staring back at me still had fright-drained pallor beneath her honey-colored skin. Her neck was smooth and bare, without a single bite mark.
Maybe I really had just been too tense.
My father had once been the Alpha of the Ashford Pack, but because my mother was human, ever since I married into the Obsidian Pack, I had always worried that my half-blood status would embarrass Miles.
I steadied myself, took out my lipstick, and touched up my makeup until I looked like my usual gentle, obedient self again.
The moment I pulled open the restroom door, I saw Miles leaning against the hallway wall, waiting for me.
As soon as he saw me, he straightened and reached for my waist.
“What took you so long?”
The last look on his face in the dream—that cruel, mocking expression—flashed before my eyes.
I instinctively turned aside and avoided his hand. “I got a little chilled just now, and I’m still a bit dizzy. I’m fine now.”
His hand froze in midair. He frowned slightly, then quickly withdrew it.
He glanced around, lowered his voice, and when he spoke, there was a hard edge in it I had never heard from him before.
“Alpha will be here tonight too. I need you to be sharp and not embarrass me.”
I went still. A chill shot straight up my back.
The exact same words. The exact same tone. It was identical to what I had heard in my dream just before entering the ballroom.
Clara roared in my head, “I knew it! That was no ordinary dream! Let me out so I can tear his throat out right now!”
I dug my nails into my palm and swallowed the cold laugh rising to my lips.
Not yet. I couldn’t panic. Maybe it was only a coincidence. After all, Miles had always wanted to climb higher in the administrative department. Caring about what his superiors thought was only natural.
I decided to test him.
I looked up at him with a deliberately innocent, startled expression. “Not embarrass you? Miles, the house your whole family lives in now, the clothes they wear—those were all paid for with my dowry. If we’re talking about shame, isn’t a man who supports his entire family on his wife’s dowry the real joke?”
Miles’s expression froze.
The corners of his handsome face twitched, and his eyes darkened, like someone had stripped him bare in public.
I had never even spoken sharply to him before. He probably never imagined, even in his dreams, that I would say something so cutting.
Looking at that stifled, resentful expression on his face, my heart sank bit by bit.
Before he could react, I curved my eyes and burst out laughing. “Oh, come on, I’m joking. Look how tense you got.”
Miles stared at me for a full three seconds before letting out a heavy breath and forcing that patient smile back onto his face.
“What’s gotten into you today?” He reached for my hand, his thumb lightly stroking the back of it, his voice softening. “Is your period coming? Are you not feeling well? I’ll get you a hot drink in a minute.”
My period.
Such a useful excuse. Any sign of disobedience from a woman could be blamed on that.
I lowered my lashes to hide the chill in my eyes and did not pull my hand away again. “All right. Let’s go in.”
The moment we pushed open the carved wooden doors, a wave of heat mixed with the scent of hundreds of werewolves rushed over me, sharp enough to sting my nose.
The Mating Ball. Every Valentine’s Day, the unmated wolves of the Pack gathered to celebrate and search for their fated mates beneath the Moon Goddess’s gaze.
Those already mated attended too—to celebrate, to socialize, to strengthen their bonds.
I swept my gaze quickly across the room.
To the left of the seat of honor, old butler Howard was stooped over, smiling as he directed the servers to refill drinks. His shrewd old eyes kept drifting over the young women in the hall.
In my dream, Howard had been the one to notice that I resembled Daisy, the Alpha’s first love who had died young. Then Miles had eagerly approached him and used me as a bargaining chip to get in his good graces.
Miles led me to a round table near the edge of the dance floor.
Several of his coworkers from the administrative department were already seated there. The moment they saw us, a round-faced man stood up and raised his glass. “Hey, Miles, you brought your wife!”
“Just got here. Traffic on the way.” Miles clinked glasses and slapped shoulders with easy familiarity, and before long he was chatting with them about office gossip.
I sat quietly beside him, hands folded on my lap, a perfectly measured smile on my lips.
But my ears were listening for something else.
A werewolf’s hearing was three times sharper than a human’s. Mine was weaker as a half-blood, but if I concentrated, it was still enough to catch a whisper from twenty meters away.
The second-floor private boxes. The elders’ voices drifted down from behind the carved railing.
“...we absolutely cannot keep letting him drag this out. Obsidian Pack needs an official Luna.”
“Silvercrest sent another letter. Their Alpha’s daughter is apparently very willing...”
“Keep your voice down. The last time anyone brought up a political marriage, he flipped the table on the spot.”
My fingertips turned cold.
Every word from the elders upstairs overlapped exactly with the dream.
This deadlock had gone on for nearly a year. A Pack without a Luna was politically incomplete. Other Packs would see its Alpha as unstable, immature, without restraint.
Just then, beside me, Miles finished exchanging pleasantries with his coworkers and casually took two glasses of champagne from a passing tray.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that instead of sitting back down, he turned and walked straight toward Howard on the left side of the seat of honor.
He stopped beside him, bent down, and with a flattering smile said something softly into Howard’s ear.
Howard paused, then turned in the direction Miles indicated. His wrinkled eyes fixed directly on my face, and then a look of understanding—and satisfaction—spread across it.
In that instant, it felt as if all the blood in my body had frozen solid.
At this point, I could no longer lie to myself and call it a dream.
It was a warning from the Moon Goddess.
She was showing me that the husband I loved was, at this very moment, plotting how to scrub his new bride clean and send her to the Alpha’s bed in exchange for his own bright future.
And in his eyes, my mother’s life and mine were worth less than even a stepping stone for his climb upward.
I couldn’t hold back my anger. I rose to my feet.
Suddenly, the lights across the hall went out.
The violins fell silent. Everyone’s breathing seemed to pause for a beat, and then the entire room rose in unison.
What was happening?
When the spotlight came back on, a tall man was already standing at the entrance to the ballroom.
No introduction was needed. Everyone knew who he was.
Dominic Obsidian.
