Scent Of Deception

Four Blackwood guards stood frozen at the front gates of the Vance estate, staring at me as I battered and stumbled toward them.

My white dress was soaked in mud and streaked with blood. I let my long black hair cling to my pale face, hiding most of my features.

I took another weak step before letting my knees give out.

One of the guards rushed forward. "Catch her!"

He grabbed me just before I hit the wet stone path.

Another guard pushed the hair away from my face. His eyes widened. "No..." he whispered.

The oldest guard stepped closer. His breath caught in his throat. "It can't be..."

All four men stared down at my unconscious form. They were looking at these soft features. The tiny mark beneath my left eye.

I looked exactly like the woman whose portrait still hung inside the Alpha's mansion.

"Clara..." one guard breathed. Silence fell.

For five years, the entire Blackwood Pack had believed Clara Vance was dead. Yet here I was—bruised, broken, but still breathing.

"We have to take her to Alpha Derek," one of the guards ordered.

Without another word, one guard carefully lifted me into his arms while the others surrounded us.

Inside those closed eyes, I was wide awake. I forced myself to remain completely limp.

Every movement hurt. The plastic surgeries had been agonizing. The weekly chemical injections were even worse.

The latest injection still burned beneath my skin like acid.

Just a little longer… I told myself. You can pull this off. You're Clara now, not Elena.

The heavy mansion doors swung open before us. Warm light poured into the hallway.

Music floated through the air alongside laughter, crystal glasses clinking, and the smell of expensive wine and fresh flowers. It was all pure luxury.

The guards hurried through the long hallway. As we drew closer to the grand ballroom, the music became clearer.

Then I heard a woman's voice. It was elegant and filled with confidence.

"...for better or worse..."

I listened quietly.

"...through every challenge life places before us..."

Another pause.

"I promise to stand beside you with loyalty, respect, and devotion."

Soft applause followed.

My lips almost curled into a bitter smile. Promises.

I hated promises. People loved making them. They stood before crowds, they cried, they smiled.

After all that show, they lie, cheat, and betray each other. Sometimes they even kill.

I had seen husbands poison wives for money. I had watched wives sell their husbands out.

Love, loyalty, marriage—to me, they were only beautiful words people used until they found someone else.

The only promise that mattered was survival. Everything else eventually broke.

Another voice spoke from the ballroom. This one belonged to an older man.

"The Blackwood and Ironclaw Packs shall become one through this union..."

More applause echoed through the ballroom.

I remained perfectly still, but I thought to myself; Poor woman. The bride probably believes every word she has just spoken.

She has no idea her engagement is about to fall apart.

It felt just like those old romance movies I secretly watched as a child. The bride smiled, then another woman appeared.

The difference was... this wasn't a movie. Someone would get hurt. Very badly.

The ballroom doors opened. Bright light flooded over my closed eyelids. The music stopped, and the room became strangely quiet.

One of the guards raised his voice. "Alpha Derek!" The guard swallowed hard. "Look who we found. It's Mrs Clara."

Silence followed, and no one moved.

At the center of the beautifully decorated ballroom stood Alpha Derek Vance. Tall, broad shoulders, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit.

Beside him stood Lady Vivienne in a breathtaking silver gown. An engagement ring rested inside an open velvet box between them. Neither of them moved.

Then… Derek perceived my scent. His entire body froze. The synthetic pheromones crashed into him like a violent storm.

“Clara! Impossible.” His wolf must have roared inside him.

Slowly… almost fearfully… he turned toward the entrance. His blue eyes landed on me.

The world disappeared for him. Guests, music, Vivienne, politics—everything faded. Only one person remained.

"...Clara?" His voice was barely a whisper.

The guard stepped forward. "Alpha, we found her outside the estate."

Derek stared without blinking. I guess I looked exactly the same to him.

The same face. The same scent. The same expression.

His legs moved before his mind caught up. He walked past Vivienne. Past the shocked guests. Past everyone.

Vivienne slowly turned toward him. "Derek?" He didn't answer. "Derek..." Still nothing.

Her fingers reached for him, but he walked straight past her like she wasn't even there. Gasps spread across the ballroom.

"Isn't she dead?"

"That's Clara."

"It has to be."

"Five years..."

"How is this possible?"

"I thought she died during the border attack."

"No one survives that."

"Where has she been?"

Derek stopped right before the guard. His hands trembled. "Give her to me."

The guard carefully placed me into Derek's arms.

I felt frustratingly light, fragile, and cold in his grip. Derek held me tight against his chest, and my engineered scent completely surrounded him.

I guess his wolf calmed instantly. To him, she was alive. Somehow… she had come back to him.

He brushed wet strands of hair away from my face with shaking fingers.

"Clara..." His voice cracked. "I looked for you." Silence answered him. "I never stopped looking."

Across the ballroom, Evelyn Vance watched everything. She looked shocked as well, but her sharp gaze studied me very carefully.

She turned toward the elderly family physician standing among the guests. "Doctor Harris."

The old man stepped forward immediately. "Yes, Lady Evelyn?"

"Stop standing there." She pointed toward us. "Go examine her."

The doctor hurried across the ballroom as the whispers only grew louder behind him.

"Move aside," Doctor Harris said gently.

Derek loosened his grip. The doctor checked my pulse, then my breathing and my eyes.

He noted the several bruises covering my arms and the fresh cuts lining my hands.

"She's exhausted," the doctor said quietly. "Severely dehydrated." He frowned. "And she's been injured."

Derek's jaw tightened. "Will she be alright?"

"I won't know until I examine her properly." The doctor looked around. "She needs a bed. A quiet room. And treatment immediately."

Derek didn't hesitate. "Prepare my room."

"No," the doctor corrected gently. "The guest suite. She needs rest."

Derek nodded once. "Take her there."

The guards stepped forward again. Very carefully, Derek handed me back to them.

As they carried me toward the staircase, I felt Derek's eyes following my every step.

Without opening my eyes… I allowed myself one silent thought. Phase One... completed.