Kenia POV:
The morning of the wedding was a cacophony of hairspray, screaming bridesmaids, and the cloying scent of lilies.
I moved through the Silver Lake estate like a ghost. I was the perfect servant. I steamed the silk robes. I fetched the mimosas. I lowered my head whenever anyone looked at me.
"Kenia!" Estella snapped, throwing a makeup brush at the vanity mirror. "This eyeliner is uneven. Fix it. You're an artist, aren't you? Make me look like a Luna."
"Yes, Estella," I said softly.
I picked up the brush. My hand was steady. I didn't tremble. I didn't cry. The part of me that used to care about their insults had died in the cemetery yesterday.
Holden walked in a moment later. He looked dashing in his tuxedo, the Silver Lake crest embroidered in silver thread on his lapel. He smelled of expensive musk and arrogance.
He walked up behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders while I worked on Estella's face.
"See?" he murmured, leaning close to my ear. "You fit in so well, Kenia. Everyone has a place in the pack. This is yours."
He squeezed my shoulder, a possessive gesture. He truly believed he had won. He thought he had broken me into the perfect, obedient mistress.
"Holden, stop touching the help," Estella complained, batting his hand away. "Go get ready. The ceremony starts in an hour."
Holden laughed. "Alright, alright. Kenia, where is my phone? I need to check the security feeds."
"It's on the dresser," I said.
He picked it up and frowned. "It's locked. You changed the passcode last month when you were 'cleaning up' my digital files. What is it?"
I looked at him in the mirror. "It's my birthday, Holden."
He paused. His thumb hovered over the screen. He blinked, his brow furrowing.
"Right," he muttered. "Of course."
He didn't know it.
Three years. He didn't know my birthday.
"0-5-2-1," I whispered.
He typed it in. The phone unlocked. "Got it. I'll see you at the altar, ladies. Kenia, don't forget to hold the train high. I don't want mud on the silk."
He left.
Estella shooed me away ten minutes later. "Go put on your bridesmaid dress. The ugly beige one. And don't be late."
I went to my room.
The beige dress hung on the door. I ignored it.
I changed into jeans and a black hoodie. I grabbed my backpack, which contained only my passport and the locket from Elder Evans.
I took the photo of Holden and me from the nightstand—the one taken three years ago, when his eyes were kind and I was foolish. I took a lighter from my pocket.
I watched the flame curl the edges, turning his smiling face into ash. I dropped it into the metal trash can and watched it burn until nothing was left but grey dust.
I checked my watch. The ceremony was starting. The guards would be at the perimeter of the ceremonial grounds, distracted by the Alpha Heir's grand entrance.
I walked to the back service door of the kitchen.
A black SUV was waiting in the alleyway. The windows were tinted so dark they looked like oil spills. The license plate read: ALPHA-01.
The back door opened.
I didn't look back at the mansion. I didn't look back at the room where I had cried over a lost baby.
I slid into the leather seat.
The door closed with a heavy, solid thud, sealing out the noise of the Silver Lake pack.
The air inside the car was cool and smelled... incredible.
It hit me like a physical wave. Pine needles crushed underfoot in a winter forest. Rain on hot asphalt. And something darker, like storm clouds gathering over the ocean.
It was the scent of power.
"Drive," a deep voice commanded from the seat next to me.
I looked over. Gael, the Alpha King of the Dark Moon Pack, sat there. He was wearing a dark grey suit, no tie. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass, and his eyes were the color of molten steel.
He didn't look at me. He was looking at a tablet mounted on the back of the driver's seat.
"Are you okay?" he asked. His voice was rough, vibrating in the small space.
"I'm alive," I said. My hands were shaking. Now that I was actually leaving, the adrenaline was crashing. "Did... did anyone see us?"
"No one sees me unless I want them to," Gael said.
He reached out. His hand was large, his fingers long and calloused. He didn't grab me. He just laid his hand over my trembling ones on my lap.
A jolt of electricity shot up my arm. It wasn't painful. It was warm. Comforting.
And then, the scent intensified. He was releasing Calming Pheromones.
In our world, Alphas can use their scent to intimidate or to soothe. Holden used his to suffocate me. Gael's scent wrapped around me like a heavy, protective blanket. My heart rate slowed instantly. My wolf, who had been hiding in the dark, peeked one eye open.
"Look," Gael said, pointing at the tablet.
It was a live stream of the wedding.
Holden was standing at the altar, looking handsome and fake. The music swelled.
"He's waiting for you," Gael said quietly. "He thinks you're coming to kneel."
"He's going to be waiting a long time," I whispered.
The car accelerated, speeding away from the territory. I watched the screen. I watched the life I was supposed to have.
And as the Silver Lake estate disappeared into the distance, for the first time in days, I took a full breath.
