Chapter 2

The motorcade finally passed through the imposing iron gates of a magnificent Gothic fortress.

This was the absolute heart of the Dark Moon Pack.

A maid escorted me into a bedroom.

The air hung heavy with a potent, almost oppressive scent—sharp winter pine mixed with biting frost. It was the undeniable pheromone signature of an Apex Alpha.

A towering figure stepped into the room, his features chiseled and unyielding as cold marble.

Derek.

He closed the distance between us with predatory grace.

"So, you're the daughter Robert offered up," he rumbled, his voice a gravelly baritone laced with raw disdain.

Swallowing the primal instinct to submit, I forced my chin up and met his piercing gaze.

"I am Selena. Not Irene."

Derek's eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. His hand shot out, his long fingers snapping around my jaw in a vicelike grip.

"Got some nerve, haven't you? Trying to pass off a cheap substitute. Do you have any idea how easily I could tear you to shreds?"

He leaned in, so impossibly close that the heat of his breath grazed my skin.

Then, in a fraction of a second, Derek froze.

His nostrils flared as he drew in a sharp, ragged breath, inhaling my scent.

In the span of a heartbeat, the lethal intent in his gaze vanished, instantly devoured by an infernal, maddening possessiveness.

"Mate..." he rasped, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Fated mate. The one and only fated bond in a werewolf's entire existence.

In my past life, my family had poisoned me with a scent-suppressing draft. Derek hadn't smelled a thing back then!

Derek released my jaw, only to instantly wrap his massive arms around me.

He dragged me flush against his hard chest, holding me with a crushing intensity, as if trying to fuse my flesh and blood with his own.

"My Mate," he breathed, burying his face into the curve of my neck.

He inhaled greedily, a faint, almost imperceptible tremble reverberating through his powerful frame. "Mine."

I slid my arms around his waist, melting perfectly into his embrace, and murmured in my softest, most compliant voice, "Derek. I am willing to be yours."

His head snapped up, his irises burning with a terrifying, absolute heat. Without another word, he scooped me up into his arms and strode toward the massive, silk-draped king-size bed.

"From this day forward, you are the sole Luna of the Dark Moon Pack!"

The months that followed felt like a fever dream of absolute indulgence.

While Derek dealt with pack business during the day, I reigned over the fortress. Michelin-star chefs catered to my every culinary whim.

My closets overflowed with haute couture from the season's latest runways, and the diamonds casually tossed into my jewelry boxes were enough to buy entire cities.

Derek's protectiveness over me bordered on the psychotic. Once, a visiting elder from a subordinate pack dared to make a snide remark about my low-ranking Omega origins.

In a blink, Derek erupted. He crossed the room and crushed the elder's throat with a single hand.

"Disrespect my Mate," he roared over the dying man's gasps, "and this will be your fate!"

While I basked in endless wealth, Irene and Luke were rotting in a rogue camp, living worse than stray dogs.

Luke was no romantic, wandering knight; he was a violent, lazy, bottom-feeding thug.

Within months, he had gambled away every piece of jewelry Irene had smuggled out. Reduced to shivering in a leaky, mold-infested tent, they survived by dumpster diving and petty theft.

That contrast was sharpest on the afternoon my phone buzzed.

The caller ID flashed my mother's name: Martha.

I swiped to accept the video call. Immediately, Martha's pinched, bitter face filled the screen, with my father, Robert, crowding in right beside her.

"Selena! You ungrateful little wretch!" Martha shrieked. "You're living like a queen in the Dark Moon Fortress while completely ignoring your parents and your sister's miserable lives, aren't you?!"

I shifted lazily against the silk cushions. "Get to the point, or I'm hanging up."

"Don't you dare!" Robert bellowed. "We know Derek officially made you his Luna! You must have more money than you count right now!"

The camera jostled violently before Irene's haggard face shoved into the frame.

Her eyes darted from the custom, million-dollar silk robe draped over my shoulders to the breathtakingly opulent sunroom behind me.

The sheer, venomous jealousy in her eyes looked blood-red.

"Selena! All of that was supposed to be mine! I generously gave you my place to marry Derek! You owe me for this luxury!"

"Generously gave it to me? Didn't you fake an illness because you thought he was a bloodthirsty psycho, just so you could run off with your mangy rogue?"

Stung right where it hurt most, Irene gritted her teeth. "I am commanding you—wire me ten million dollars right now! And tell Derek to set up a Beta rank for Luke within the Dark Moon Pack! If you don't, I'm going public. I'll expose you as the imposter you are!"

"Exactly! Hand over the money!" Martha chimed back in from off-screen. "Your sister has been delicate and pampered her whole life. She isn't built to suffer like this! Now that you've struck gold, pulling your family up is your basic duty!"

Staring at this screen full of shameless parasites, the hatred in my chest roared to life like a blast furnace.

In my past life, they had done exactly this. They had leached off me with sickening entitlement, drained every drop of my blood, and ultimately took my life.

"You want money?" I sneered. "Sure. Have your precious Luke survive ten rounds in the underground death-matches, or go sell your werewolf organs on the black market. You'll have plenty of cash then."

"You little bitch! How dare you speak to me like that!" Irene shrieked, visibly trembling with rage.

"Listen to me, Irene. You chose the garbage pile you're laying in right now."

I stabbed the button, cutting off the feed instantly.

However, I knew my family. A pack of ravenous leeches never let go of a main artery that easily.

This wasn't over.