Even after death, I could never forget those eyes.
Cold. Sharp. Soulless.
They had haunted every nightmare since the night my blood stained the earth.
The man standing across the hall looked different now older, hunched, his scent masked with the bitter tang of decay and ash but I'd know him anywhere.
Even if his bones were reduced to dust, I'd recognize that predator's gaze.
He was a master of disguise, the kind of killer wolves whispered about in the darker corners of the packlands.
The night he ended me, he'd looked strong and capable tall, lean, the perfect balance of power and precision. He'd moved like an Alpha, but without scent. Without soul.
No hesitation. No emotion. Just clean, lethal execution.
The memory clawed at my chest like talons tearing open an old wound. I could still feel it the cold steel sliding between my ribs, the shock of betrayal, my wolf's cry strangled in my throat.
That kind of kill wasn't human. It was trained. Controlled. Professional.
But why me?
I had never wronged anyone enough to deserve that kind of death. I'd always tried to keep my head down in the pack, obey the rules, be kind even when kindness wasn't returned.
So why hunt me?
And if I was already dead… why was he here now?
Was he after someone else? Waiting for another command from whatever Alpha had hired him?
Instinctively, my wolf flared awake inside the shell of my spirit, hackles raised, urging me to run until the truth slammed back into me.
I wasn't alive anymore.
What could he do to me now?
Still, when Julian brushed past him, offering a casual apology, a bolt of fear surged through me.
The man didn't react not to Julian's voice, not to his presence. His attention was locked, laser-sharp, unblinking.
For a heartbeat, I panicked.
Was he looking at me?
His eyes those bloodshot, hollow eyes scanned the space around me like he could sense my spirit's energy. Like he could smell the trace of my wolf still clinging to this plane.
Could he see me?
My pulse or what was left of it quickened. My instincts screamed that he could. That he was hunting me again.
And then Julian's voice shattered the silence.
"Uncle Lewis."
The man's focus shifted, and I turned sharply toward where Julian was looking.
He wasn't staring at me. He was watching Lewis, seated across the hall in his wheelchair, his sharp gaze unflinching as ever.
Relief washed through me cold and brief.
But the danger didn't fade.
The killer's steps were slow, deliberate, controlled. He moved through the crowd like a wolf stalking prey in plain sight, the rhythm of a trained assassin no wasted motion, no wasted breath.
I felt my instincts surge. My body moved on its own, arms outstretched as if I could block him, protect Lewis, protect Julian. But my hands passed through the air like smoke.
I couldn't touch. I couldn't stop him.
He passed by without even glancing my way, and still, my wolf growled low in warning. Something about his scent faint, but familiar set my soul on fire.
Then Theo, Lewis's Beta and assistant, wheeled the old Alpha closer to where Julian stood. The tension in the room sharpened like claws unsheathed.
Lewis's eyes were cold and piercing, the way only a wolf of power could look. His tone carried the weight of authority that demanded submission.
"As far as I understand, Elena's been missing since your mating ceremony," Lewis said slowly, each word like a blade of ice. "And here you are… wandering around an art show as if nothing's happened."
His words hit like claws raking across my chest. For the first time, someone spoke for me.
Someone cared enough to question my absence.
Julian stiffened, his jaw tightening. The bond between us broken though it was flickered faintly, and I could feel his discomfort through it.
"Elena's not a child," he said coldly. "She comes and goes as she pleases. She's always been stubborn. Once she's done sulking, she'll come back."
His words were sharp, but the tone… detached.
Like my disappearance was an inconvenience, not a tragedy.
Lewis's stare didn't waver. His voice dropped, cold and steady.
"What if something happened to her?"
For a brief second, Julian's mask cracked. Unease flickered behind his eyes. But before he could respond, Camilla spoke up soft, smooth, venom wrapped in silk.
"Uncle Lewis, you're worrying over nothing. Elena's fine. She went to Cloudville a while ago."
Julian turned toward her sharply.
"What did you just say?"
Camilla didn't miss a beat.
"One of our distant relatives from Cloudville told me this morning that Elena contacted them last month. She asked for help finding a place to stay."
Her lie slid easily off her tongue, her scent calm, controlled practiced.
And the worst part? It sounded believable.
Because Cloudville had always been my dream.
A place beyond the Alpha courts wild hills, clean air, endless freedom. A territory where wolves could run under moonlight without rules or restraint.
Half a moon before my death, I had even planned my escape. Booked a flight for the day after the ceremony. I had wanted to expose their betrayal, walk away, and start over in peace.
Camilla's voice floated through the air like venom wrapped in honey. "Just to be sure, I checked. She booked a one-way flight to Cloudville Pack on the fifteenth."
Julian's expression darkened, his Alpha aura thickening in irritation. "No wonder no one could find any trace of her. She just ran off without saying a word!"
Camilla reached out and brushed his arm lightly, her touch lingering longer than it should. "Don't be upset, Julian," she purred, eyes full of false sympathy. "You know Elena never thinks things through. She acts on instinct, never considering how others feel. We've all gotten used to it."
Her words sliced through me like claws. My wolf bristled beneath my skin, a low growl curling in my throat even though no one could hear me. If Julian had cared truly cared he could have checked, confirmed, felt through our fading bond that I never boarded that flight. But he didn't. He let her lies become truth.
A bitter laugh escaped me, hollow and soundless.
Then I saw it the faintest twitch at the corner of Lewis's mouth. Not amusement. Awareness. His sharp, calculating eyes gleamed like a predator's that had already scented blood.
Lewis's tone was cool, but it carried the weight of Alpha authority, the kind that demanded silence without needing to raise his voice. "Let's hope you don't end up regretting this," he said evenly.
I froze, instincts flaring. The air in the hall shifted, thick with dominance and something unspoken. What did he mean? Did Lewis know something?
Julian stiffened beside Camilla, uneasy. Before he could speak, Theo ever loyal, ever silent stepped forward, turning the wheelchair with practiced ease. Lewis didn't look back as he left, his presence leaving the room feeling suddenly smaller, colder.
Camilla immediately slipped closer to Julian again, her fingers tracing along his sleeve like she was staking a claim. "Come on," she whispered sweetly. "The auction's starting."
I followed, my ghost tethered to Julian's energy, my wolf restless. The air smelled of money, greed, and lies. Beneath the glittering lights, the gathering of packs and humans alike buzzed with anticipation.
That's when I saw him.
Lurking near the shadows eyes sharp, movements too quiet for an ordinary man. His scent was faint, but the metallic tang of blood and smoke clawed at my senses. When he looked up, his eyes found mine. Cold. Unforgiving. Predatory.
My chest constricted. My wolf recoiled.
It was him.
The male who killed me.
He was here. In my pack's territory.
Why? Why now? And where was my body?
I glanced between him and Camilla, searching for even a flicker of recognition. Nothing. No glance, no scent exchange, no shared signal. My pulse stuttered. Could it be… Camilla hadn't been the one who hired him?
Before I could dwell on it, Julian's deep voice cut through the air. "Three million."
My heart stopped. He was bidding on one of my paintings only, he believed it was Camilla's. His way of showing affection, of loyalty. The gesture twisted something deep inside me.
Camilla blushed prettily, leaning against his side, letting her scent mingle with his in the most territorial way possible. Around them, whispers rose.
"The Alpha's so devoted."
"They're practically bonded."
If only they knew.
If the truth came out, would they still call her a Luna in waiting?
"Five million."
The voice came colder, smoother, carrying authority that silenced the room.
Lewis.
I turned sharply, watching him lift his bidding paddle without a flicker of emotion. The crowd rippled with unease. Even Julian's posture shifted, shoulders tensing as dominance rolled off both males like static before a storm.
Julian's jaw clenched. "Eight million."
Lewis didn't blink. His eyes met Julian's, his wolf calm but dangerous. Then he spoke, voice like a blade sliding through ice. "Eighty million."
Gasps broke through the hall. Even my wolf stilled.
Eighty million? Was he marking territory or making a statement?
Julian's expression darkened, his Alpha pride bruised, but Lewis's silence was louder than any challenge. He kept bidding, outpacing Julian with impossible sums, until he owned not just the painting but every piece that had once carried my hidden mark.
When the auction ended, I followed them outside. The scent of tension was sharp in the night air.
Julian stormed toward Lewis's sleek black car, his tone low but charged. "Uncle Lewis, you just spent over two hundred million on three paintings. If the Elder Council hears "
Lewis turned his head, eyes glinting beneath the moonlight. His voice was calm, yet edged with Alpha steel. "Do I look like a wolf who needs to justify his actions to anyone?"
Julian fell silent, his dominance wilting under the weight of Lewis's presence.
He wasn't Alpha yet not truly. Not while Lewis still stood in the shadows, watching, judging.
Lewis's gaze lingered on him for a long, tense moment, fury burning behind his composure. "You've got the wrong idea about me, Julian," he said softly. "And this time… I'm not letting it slide."