Chapter 2

Dorian's little tantrum hadn't put a dent in my mood.

I drove straight downtown to Lunara Atelier, the city's most exclusive couture house.

Next month, Kazimir would formally take command of the Terran Fang Council.

Every major pack on the continent would attend the ascension gala, and as his wife, I needed gowns worthy of the occasion.

Lunara Atelier served only high-born wolf nobility. Appointments were mandatory. No exceptions.

The moment I entered the VIP suite, an attendant appeared with a cup of Moon Dew tea, its cool fragrance curling through the air.

"Ma'am, the 'Midnight Constellation' you selected has arrived from headquarters. Would you like to try it on?"

I nodded.

She had barely turned to fetch the gown when a commotion broke out beyond the doors—raised voices, heavy footsteps, and a wave of cheap cedar pheromones sharp enough to make my stomach turn.

Dorian.

"I don't give a damn about your appointment policy! I'm the Alpha of Bleakfang Pack! My fiancée wants to see your finest pieces. Bring them out. Now."

I raised a brow. Small world.

The VIP doors flew open. Dorian strode in with Elysia hanging off his arm.

Behind them came his mother, Morwen—the former Luna of Bleakfang Pack—sweeping in with expensive fur and open contempt.

"Well, well." Morwen's eyes narrowed to slits the instant she spotted me.

"If it isn't the little mongrel. My son casts you aside and you're already warming some old man's bed—one with a foot in the grave, no less."

Her lip curled. "A place like this? You honestly think a nameless stray with no noble blood belongs here?"

Elysia latched onto Morwen's arm, her voice dripping with rehearsed sympathy.

"Morwen, don't be so hard on her. She's all alone out there. Maybe she only wanted to see what a place like this looks like from the inside."

"See? She doesn't even deserve to breathe the same air." Morwen's face twisted. "Dorian, get this stray out before she stinks up the place."

Dorian puffed out his chest like he was granting charity.

"Calista. You see how things are. Kneel, apologize to Elysia, and I might consider giving you a monthly allowance."

I stayed right where I was and took a slow sip of tea.

"Did all three of you lose your minds on the way here?" I set the cup down with a soft clink, my gaze dragging over them, cold and unhurried.

"Who gave you the audacity to think I need anything from you?"

"How dare you!" Morwen's face flushed crimson. "Security! Throw this stray out!"

That was when my attendant returned, cradling a garment in her arms.

A gown the color of a moonless sky—black silk that moved like poured shadow, its hem scattered with crystals that caught the light in flashes of dark, devastating brilliance.

The kind of dress that didn't just turn heads. It stopped hearts.

The attendant stepped forward, placing herself squarely between me and the uninvited guests. Her voice was polite. Her stance was not.

"I'll have to ask you to show some respect. This lady is one of Lunara's most distinguished private clients. If you continue to disrupt her appointment, security will escort you from the premises."

"Distinguished client? Her?" Dorian barked a laugh. "She doesn't have two nickels to rub together. She's conning you!"

But Elysia wasn't laughing. Her eyes had locked onto the gown, naked greed written all over her face.

"Dorian—that dress. It's gorgeous. I want it for our mate-bonding ceremony!"

Dorian waved a dismissive hand. "How much? Put it on my card. Wrap it up."

The attendant didn't flinch. "I'm sorry, sir. This is the 'Midnight Constellation.' One of a kind—the only piece on the continent. Valued at three million dollars. And it's already been reserved by this lady."

"Three million?!" Morwen sucked in a breath, then turned her venom on me.

"Calista—you're selling yourself now? You shameless whore. You've disgraced the entire wolf race!"

I was done entertaining them.

I unclasped my handbag, slid two fingers in, and drew out a card.

Pure obsidian black, its edges traced with a dark-gold wolf head crest that seemed to pulse with authority. I flicked it onto the glass table.

"Ring it up."

A single, crystalline clink.

The room went silent.

Every pair of eyes fixed on the card. The Terran Fang Council's Supreme Black Card.

Fewer than ten existed on the entire continent. It didn't represent wealth—it represented the kind of power wealth couldn't buy.

"No…" Dorian's face drained white. He lunged for the card, but the attendant snatched it away before his fingers came close.

He jabbed a trembling finger at me, his Alpha dominance guttering like a candle in a storm. "Where did you steal that?! I'll report you—"

"Go ahead."

I rose from the sofa. And I stopped holding back.

I let a sliver of my true power slip free—quiet, controlled, and absolutely crushing.

Elysia, closest to me, flinched on pure instinct, her knees buckling before she caught herself.

I looked down at her like dirt beneath a polished heel.

"You want this dress?" A smile ghosted across my lips.

"Sweet. You won't touch so much as its hem in this lifetime." I tilted my head. "Oh—and your little mate-bonding ceremony? I'll be there. I'm curious to see what kind of pathetic circus you two manage to stage."

I turned to the attendant without sparing them another glance.

"No need to wrap it. Have your manager deliver it personally to the address on file."

The attendant cradled the card in both hands and bowed low. "Yes, ma'am. Right away."

My heels clicked a steady, unhurried rhythm across the marble as I walked out.

Behind me, three seconds of ringing silence—

Then Morwen's shriek split the air, followed by the sharp, satisfying crack of a teacup shattering against the wall.