Claire’s POV
The wolfsbane burned through my veins like liquid fire, leaving me paralyzed against the splintered floorboards.
Light, familiar footsteps approached. Ivy crouched beside me, wearing the sisterly smile I used to trust.
"Oh, Claire," she cooed, digging her thumb into my jaw to force my gaze up. "You really are pathetic."
Rage bubbled through my toxic haze, but my mouth wouldn't cooperate.
"Did you really think Chase loved you?" she asked, her sharp nail dragging down my cheek. "He chose me months ago, sweetie. Tonight was just tying up loose ends."
No.
She sounded downright chipper as she laid it all bare. "Your dress was coated in Lust Dust. We planted the rogue in the VIP room, and when the guards found him on top of you, Chase had no choice but to reject you publicly. You should've heard the whispers—the wolfless freak finally spread her legs for a rogue."
Every kind word, every sisterly touch she'd ever given me had been a knife waiting for my back.
Heavy boots thudded. Chase walked in, his expression dead with boredom.
"Chase," I rasped.
"Don’t look at me like that," he muttered, stepping over me like a nuisance. "You were useful, Claire. That’s all."
Something inside me shattered. I had swallowed every gentle lie he fed me, starving for someone to choose me.
Hooking her arm through his, Ivy paused at the door.
"When I heard the Alpha King was passing through tonight, I actually broke a sweat. I thought, what if he finds her? What if a knight in shining armor finally saves her?" She sneered, grinding her heel into my paralyzed fingers. Pain flared, blinding and hot. "But you're not clever enough to escape. And even if you were, who would believe you?"
I hated them. But mostly, I hated myself for trusting them.
"Make sure the rogues finish the job before dawn," Chase said, tugging her away. "We need to bury this mess before news arrives from the northern ridge."
"Relax," Ivy scoffed. "Your inside man handled the patrol route. Wolfsbane smoke and silver bolts. By sunrise, your uncle will have bigger fish to fry than one ruined girl."
The door clicked shut like a closing coffin.
Staring at the ceiling, I tried to force my weak, dormant wolf to the surface, but she only whimpered.
Scritch. Scratch.
The stench of unwashed fur, blood, and sour rot bled through the cracks.
They weren't just leaving me to the poison.
The door shattered.
Before the splinters even hit the floor, three hulking rogues filled the pitch black. The closest one was already on top of me. Sickly yellow eyes and a drooling, rotting jaw hovered inches from my face, his filthy hands tearing at my dress with sick, feral lust.
I opened my mouth to scream.
---
I woke up gasping, clawing at my throat as if the poison still burned within me.
For a long moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. The vision clung to me like oil—thick and suffocating.
It should have felt like a nightmare, but every detail was razor-sharp. Ivy’s taunts. Chase’s dead eyes. The Lust Dust. The rogue and the northern ridge.
It should have felt like a nightmare, but every detail was razor-sharp. Ivy’s taunts. Chase’s dead eyes. The sickening scent of the Lust Dust. The phantom ache of the rogue's brutal grip...
Knock, knock, knock.
"Miss Claire?" A maid’s voice snapped me back to reality. "Miss Ivy is here to help you get ready for the ceremony."
My blood ran cold.
The door swung open, and Ivy breezed in carrying my ceremony dress. The identical white gown with silver embroidery. The same sweet smile I’d just watched turn deadly in the cabin.
"Happy birthday, Claire!" She held up the dress. "Are you excited? Your Coming-of-Fang Ceremony is finally here."
I forced a smile, though my heart hammered against my ribs. "Just nervous."
"Oh, you’ll do great." Ivy laid the dress across my bed, smoothing the fabric with practiced hands. "Chase is dying to announce your engagement tonight."
Her fingers lingered on the skirt, and I spotted it. A faint shimmer, like dust catching the light.
Lust Dust.
My stomach plummeted.
The nightmare was a prophecy playing out in real time.
For a terrifying second, I was transported back to the cabin floor. Wolfsbane burning my veins, Ivy’s sickening voice in my ear, and Chase treating me like a corpse.
My fingers clamped around the fabric.
I wanted to rip the gown to shreds. I wanted to grab Ivy by the throat and demand how long she’d been plotting my downfall behind that fake smile. But my hands shook too violently to act.
"Claire?" Ivy was watching me, her smile turning brittle. "You’re acting weird."
Panic flared. She was catching on.
If I lost my cool now, she would know. If she knew, Chase would pivot. And if Chase pivoted, I might not survive the remix of my own murder.
I willed my fingers to release the silk.
Ivy was the golden child of the Pierce family. I was the weakling with a dormant wolf, only tolerated because of my father’s legacy. No one would take my word over hers.
So I beamed, allowing my voice to tremble.
"Sorry," I whispered. "I’m just overwhelmed. Thanks for bringing the dress, Ivy."
She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "That’s what sisters do."
The second the door clicked shut, I snatched the dress and glared at the shimmering powder woven into the fabric.
I wasn't going to die tonight. Not again.
I spent the next hour dabbing away the Lust Dust with a damp cloth, leaving just a trace so Ivy wouldn’t catch on. Then I tucked my mother’s silver charm into the bodice, grabbed a lethal silver hairpin from my jewelry box, and strapped a small blade to my forearm.
My hands trembled, but I kept replaying the vision—the VIP room, the rogue, the ambush.
Just as I finished prepping, Ivy knocked and popped her head in.
"Chase wants a private word before the big announcement," she whispered, winking.
I nodded, following her through the bustling party. Male wolves sniffed the air, their hungry eyes lingering on me for a beat too long. The Lust Dust was doing its job, even watered down.
Ivy pushed open the door to the VIP lounge. "He’ll be right up."
The lock clicked shut behind me with a sickening finality.
The fire crackled in the hearth, throwing twisted shadows across the walls. Suddenly, the air turned thick. A rotting stench filled the tight space, choking my lungs.
Thud. Thud.
Heavy footsteps dragged from behind the velvet curtain. A hulking rogue ripped the fabric aside.
He blocked the only exit. Matted fur burst from his neck. Yellow eyes locked onto me, and hot drool dripped from his half-shifted jaw.
He stepped closer, flashing a sick grin. "Pretty thing."
He lunged, his massive body blotting out the firelight.
I twisted aside, yanking the silver hairpin free. His dirty claws tore through my dress and skin. Before I could retreat, his giant hand clamped around my wrist, cruel talons biting into my flesh.
Pain flared, but panic instantly burned into pure adrenaline. I gripped the hairpin and plunged the silver deep into his shoulder.
He unleashed a deafening howl. His hand snapped back, freeing my bloody wrist as he stumbled away.
I didn't give him a single second to recover.
I snatched the hidden blade from my sleeve and lunged forward. The cold metal slashed hard across his exposed ribs. The silver hissed, searing through his rotting flesh like acid.
He dropped like a stone.
I stood over his unconscious body, chest heaving.
Footsteps pounded in the hallway.
"Are you sure she’s in there?" "The door’s locked, Miss Ivy." "Then bust it open!"
I sprinted to the fireplace, my fingers frantically tracing the stone for the crescent carving.
The door handle rattled violently behind me.
Panic clawed at my throat.
Then I spotted it—a tiny crescent moon etched into the corner of the mantle, buried under a layer of soot.
Click.
The wall shifted inward just as the main door burst open. I slipped into the dark passage and yanked the secret panel shut.
My mother had shown me this hidden corridor when I was seven.
"A Luna smiles for the room, but she always knows her exits."
She had been preparing me. I finally understood why.
Muffled through the stone, Ivy’s shriek echoed. "Where is she?! Where the hell is Claire?!"
"Find her before she hits the main floor!" Chase’s voice cracked with panic. "If she talks, we’re dead meat!"
I plunged deeper into the passage. My silk dress caught on the jagged stone, tearing with every frantic step.
The air grew frigid as I descended into the bowels of the pack house.
Above me, the shouts of hunting guards bled through the ceiling.
My lungs burned.
One wrong turn and I was dead.
I rounded the corner—
And crashed straight into a solid chest.
A massive hand shot out, pinning me by the throat against the stone. Not enough to crush my windpipe, but enough to make my dormant wolf whimper in instant submission.
His aura pressed down on me, suffocating and absolute.
For the first time in years, my inner wolf clawed to the surface—because she recognized him.
Only one wolf on earth possessed this level of dominance:
The Alpha King.