The carriage ride to the Silver-Moon estate was a masterclass in suffocating tension.
Silas sat opposite me, draped in the heavy, midnight-black regalia of the Shadow-Crest. The silver chains across his chest caught the moonlight, and his aura was so cold it felt like the windows were frosting over from the inside. He hadn't looked at me once since I'd stepped into the foyer. He'd seen the "safe" version of the dress—a floor-length masterpiece of shimmering silver silk with a high collar and long sleeves that made me look like an ice statue.
He didn't know that beneath the heavy silk overlays, the gown was held together by delicate, invisible stays. He didn't know that with three strategic tugs, the modesty would fall away to reveal the sheer mesh panels that traced the lines of my ribs, the small of my back, and the nape of my neck.
"You're trembling," he said, his voice a low vibration that seemed to come from the floorboards.
"I'm not," I lied, though my pulse was hammering against my throat. "I'm hungry for the end of this."
"Keep your head high, Seraphina," he rasped, finally turning those golden eyes to mine. There was so much pain in them—so much misplaced noble sacrifice. "Julian will try to touch you. He will try to claim you are his by right of the law. Let him talk. In eleven months, you can decide your own fate, but tonight, you are under the protection of the Shadow-Crest. Remember that."
I looked at him, my heart breaking for the man who was willing to lose me to follow a law that didn't even apply to us. "The law is a mirror, Silas. It only reflects what we are brave enough to show it."
The Silver-Moon estate was exactly as I remembered it: opulent, arrogant, and smelling of false prestige. As we entered the grand ballroom, the music didn't stop, but the atmosphere shifted instantly. It was as if a predator had entered a room full of peacocks.
Silas led me to the center of the floor. He didn't ask; he simply placed a hand on my waist, and the orchestra transitioned into a sweeping, traditional waltz.
The dance was a battle of wills. Silas held me with a desperate kind of reverence, his touch burning through the silk. But as we moved, I felt the eyes of the room on us—specifically the eyes of the man standing by the punch bowls.
Julian.
He looked exactly the same. Handsome in a way that felt like spoiled fruit. But as we spun past him, I felt his aura spike. It wasn't the aura of a confident Alpha; it was the sharp, jagged scent of a man who realized his "dud" wife was no longer broken.
My aura, once a flickering candle I had fought to hide, was now a roaring furnace of titanium and silver. It was thick, heavy, and utterly overwhelming. I saw Julian recoil slightly as the sheer weight of my presence hit him. He looked disgusted, his lip curling—not in pity, but in a jealous, defensive rage. He hated that I was stronger than him. He hated that my scent now commanded the room.
"You're radiating like a sun, Seraphina," Silas whispered in my ear, his voice strained. "Pull it back. You're scaring the lesser wolves."
"Let them be scared," I replied, my eyes locked on Julian.
The song ended, and Julian didn't wait. He stalked onto the floor, his face a mask of wounded pride. "Silas. I believe I'm owed a dance with my wife."
Silas's grip on me tightened until it was almost bruising. "She is a guest of the Shadow-Crest, Julian. She goes where she chooses."
"It's alright, Silas," I said, my voice sweet and lethal. I stepped out of his arms and into Julian's.
The moment Julian's hand touched my waist, he flinched. To him, my power felt like a physical burn. "What have you done to yourself?" he hissed as he began a stiff, angry dance. "You smell... wrong. Overpowering. Like a freak."
"I smell like an Alpha, Julian," I whispered. "I know that's a scent you aren't used to seeing on me."
"You are my property," he snarled, his eyes darting around to see if the other High Alphas noticed his discomfort. "I don't care how much silver Silas has pumped into your veins. You are the Silver-Moon's shame, and you will learn to keep your mouth shut."
He led me toward the terrace, away from the prying eyes of the dancers, but into the view of the High Council members seated on the balconies. He wanted to reclaim his dominance in private.
"I've missed having someone to remind me of my own superiority," he laughed, stepping closer until I could smell the expensive brandy on his breath. He looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on the high collar of my dress. "The High Council is already asking when the Silver-Moon's Luna will be returning to her rightful bed."
He reached out, his hand moving toward my face. Silas, who had been following us like a shadow, went to intercept him, but I stepped into Julian's space. I let him touch me.
"You look well, Julian," I said, my voice echoing. "But you're mistaken about one thing. You keep talking about me as your Luna. But we both know the truth. We both know what's missing."
Julian's eyes narrowed. "You forget yourself, thing," he hissed.
The sound of the slap was like a whip cracking across the terrace.
My head snapped to the side. Behind me, the world went black. Silas's aura didn't just flare; it exploded. He moved faster than the human eye could follow, catching Julian by the throat and lifting him off his feet.
"Silas, stop!" Alpha Corvin cried out. "He is within his rights! She is his wife! The law of the pack allows—"
"I don't give a damn about the law of your pathetic pack," Silas rasped, his eyes glowing a blinding gold.
I reached out, my fingers grazing Silas's arm. "Silas. Not yet. Let him go."
Slowly, Silas opened his hand. Julian fell to the ground in a heap, gasping for air. He scrambled to his feet, trying to regain his dignity in front of the gathering High Alphas.
"See?" Julian shouted, gesturing to Silas. "He's stolen my Luna! I demand my wife be returned to me tonight!"
The Council representatives on the balcony leaned forward. Silas looked at the ground, his shoulders heavy with the weight of "Luna Theft."
"You want your wife, Julian?" I asked, my voice calm as I stepped into the center of the terrace. "You want everyone to see your 'property'?"
"I want the woman I swore my life to!" Julian snarled.
"Then let everyone see what you swore to," I said. I reached for the hidden stays at my hip and my collar. Silas's breath hitched. "Seraphina, what are you doing?"
"Ending this," I said.
With a sharp, decisive tug, the heavy silver silk panels fell away, fluttering to the stone floor like discarded wings.
The gasp that went through the crowd was deafening. Beneath the silk, the dress was nothing but sheer, silver mesh. My ribs, my back, and the nape of my neck were completely exposed.
"Look closely, High Alphas!" I called out. "Look for the mark of the Silver-Moon! Look for the bite of the man who claims to own my soul!"
The Council members stood up. Julian went deathly pale.
"There is no mark," a Council Elder whispered. "The union was never sealed."
I looked at Julian, my eyes flashing silver. "You were too ashamed to mark a 'dud,' weren't you? And by the laws of the Great Moon... that means I am no one's property."
I turned to Silas, whose golden eyes were wide with shock.
"I am a free Alpha," I said. "And the Silver-Moon has no claim on me."