I walked about my room like a trapped wolf, and every time I moved too quickly, the pain on my cheek got worse. But agony couldn't put out the fire inside me. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and dialed Elliot.
He answered practically right away, and his voice was full with worry. "Hey? "Does it still hurt?"
I answered, "It does," and I milked it just enough. "But I want to go to the Moonstone Jewelry Fair." "Can you take me?"
There was a break. "What jewelry fair?"
I said, "I'll send you the video," and then I hung up fast and sent him the tape before my voice could sound weak from how desperate I was.
A bit later, he answered.
Okay, I'll take you there.
I squealed with joy, but the abrupt movement hurt my swollen cheek. I cursed the name that burned in my throat like poison and snarled between my teeth. "Anastasia, you little witch." You think you're so important, a jewelry designer who can't even go to a place like that.
You will see. I thought. You'll always be underneath me.
The smell of old books and polished marble stuck to the walls of my workplace all around the city. I had just gotten comfortable when I heard a lot of people talking in the hallway. They were all excitedly talking about the same fair. A video ad appeared on my coworker's screen. It showed shiny stones beneath golden lighting and wolves from aristocratic packs dressed up in fancy clothes. The invitation said that everyone had to dress up, with dresses, tuxedos, and all.
I felt like my heart sunk. I didn't even have a dress, let alone one that would be appropriate for a party full of elite packs and Luna candidates.
I stroked my temples and let out a gentle sigh. I can't afford anything like that right now. Maybe I should just not do it.
My phone rang, breaking my spiral of doubt. A number that isn't known. I answered carefully. "Hey?"
A nice woman's voice came through the phone. "Good afternoon." Is this Miss Tillman? This is FH Atelier calling. Someone has booked a banquet dress in your name. "Would you be able to come try it on later today?"
I stopped. "A dress for a banquet? "Is this for me?"
Then it came to me. Nigel.
I smiled to myself. "Yes. I'll be there.
I sent him an SMS right away to thank him. Thanks a lot, Nigel. I added a wolf emoji that was blushing, hoping he would get what it meant.
His answer came right away: "Don't mention it." I hope you enjoy it! Then a wide smile.
I took a big breath and asked for an hour off that afternoon. FH wasn't too far away. And besides, how frequently did a man from one of the most powerful werewolf families treat me like this?
The boutique stood in front of me like a castle of style. FH Atelier wasn't just any old clothing store; it was where Luna-blooded heiresses shopped and where the daughters of Alphas from ancient packs came to show off their wealth in velvet and jewels.
The owner herself said hello to me at the door. "Miss Tillman, please come with me."
She took me up to a VIP room. I couldn't breathe the second I walked in.
The garment was there, on a mannequin that had been polished. Or more like... my dress. The fabric was smooth and shiny, and it looked like it was made from moonlight. It sparkled with tiny diamond-like stars. It didn't simply look like it cost a lot. It felt holy. Like something a Luna might wear to show that she belongs next to her Alpha.
The store owner whispered softly, "This is the dress Mr. Manson set aside for you." "Do you like it?"
My lips opened, but I didn't say anything. My wolf moved under my skin, sensing something basic in its cut and structure. Like it was made for me.
"He... bought this for me?" I spoke it softly, half-asleep.
She grinned. "Yes." This design is part of our signature line. There are around eight thousand diamond beads sewn by hand into the silk. It costs eight million dollars.
My knees were about to give up.
Eight million?!
I could feel my heart racing. "That's too much." I can't accept it. Could you make it easier? Maybe something less...
"Miss Tillman," she said softly, "Mr. Manson paid in full." And to be honest, I don't think there's a dress out there that would look better on you.
I looked down at my basic workplace blouse and worn flats, and then back up at the dress. A dress for parties, howling moons, and showing off your might.
I still couldn't walk away. Not from anything that made my heart race this quickly.
"Okay then," I said quietly. "I'll give it a shot."
—
Putting on that gown felt like putting on a different version of myself. Someone who is stronger. Someone who knew how valuable she was. The silk caressed my curves like it knew me, like if fate had knitted it together. I was shocked when I looked to the mirror.
I felt gorgeous for the first time in a long time. Not just in a superficial sense, but in a way that made my wolf sit up and pay attention. It was like I wasn't just a jewelry designer anymore; I was a Luna rising.
The proprietor of the store gave me a card. "Come back at four tomorrow. We'll get your hair and cosmetics ready for you. And the jewelry to finish off the look.
I nodded slowly, holding onto the edge of the mirror. My image peered back at me, this version of me with fire in her eyes and power in her stance.
I didn't know what would happen at the jewelry fair or who I might see there.
But I wasn't scared anymore.
Not with my wolf ready to stand up.
Not with Nigel calmly looking over me like a shadowy Alpha.
And not when I looked like this.
As soon as the sun went down behind the trees that night, I sat Jared down and carefully combed his dark hair away from his forehead. "Sweetheart," I said softly, "I have to go to a jewelry fair tonight." Do you want Grandpa Francis or Grace to remain with you while I'm gone?
Jared's large brown eyes brightened up. "Grandpa! I want Grandpa to come over!
I grinned, and warmth spread across my chest. He would definitely pick Francis. Even the most energetic puppies calmed down when they were around the elderly wolf. I called Francis immediately quickly, and as always, he said yes without thinking.
He said, "I'll take him out for a nice meal." "Just the two of us, like real alphas-in-training." He can spend the night with me.
My stiff shoulders eventually relaxed as I hung up. Jared would be OK. Loved. Careful.
It was bright and early on Saturday morning, and the smell of dew was still in the air as I put Jared in my car. We walked around the mall and got him his favorite snacks: dried apple slices, wolfberry crisps, and a new box of Legos he had been asking about nonstop. He laughed when I let him put an extra candy bag in the basket. I acted like I didn't see.
When I got home, I threw myself into work, with pencils scratching across design pages and the world fading away save for Jared's happy whispers as he built miniature castles out of colored blocks at my feet. The wind blew through the open windows, making the sheer white curtains move like ghosts in the afternoon sun.
Francis came at 3:30 PM, with his arms full of fresh fruit and milk, like a doting omega-grandfather from an ancient story. Jared leaped into his arms, screaming with joy, and Francis laughed, his eyes melting with love.
"I swear," he murmured, ruffling the boy's hair, "I'm going to spoil this little pup rotten."
I kissed Jared's cheek and stepped outside, and my heart sank. The air smelled like pine trees and showers far away. I didn't turn around.
I went immediately to the boutique, where the owner had already set everything up. There was a low level of excitement in the air. Two stylists circled me like bees, looking me over.
One person screamed, "Miss Tillman," and touched my cheek lightly. "Your skin—goddess, it's perfect." "What's your secret? No pores, no blemishes?"
I chuckled quietly. "I just use the same moisturizer on my son."
They blinked, apparently shocked. I could see the jealousy that wasn't spoken between them.
I closed my eyes and let them work once I sat down. Brushes moved over my skin like whispers, cool and soft. They hardly touched my naturally thick brows, and they merely drew a thin line around my lids. A gentle red color spread across my lips, and the stylists stepped back, holding their breath.
One muttered, "You look like an alpha queen kissed by the moon."
They twisted the strands of hair around my ears and then put on diamond earrings that sparkled like stardust. The lights made my jewelry shine, much like the garment that was waiting for me. When I put on the white luna gown, it hugged my curves like it was made of moonlight.
The shopkeeper remarked with a smile, "Your driver is waiting outside, Miss Tillman." You could tell she was proud of her work.
I said a gentle thank you and let the dress's fabric brush the floor as I moved. The silver Benz outside seemed like a predator waiting for its victim. I stopped.
Nigel... I thought I knew you. You told me that your family had a hotel business when we met under foreign stars. You never stated this.
But I still opened the door and went inside.
Hayley was going through her own change somewhere else in town.
She had hired a full glam crew, which included top-notch artists who had painted the faces of both socialites and starlets. She looked like a whole different person since she had so much powder, shadow, and gloss on her face.
Then, as if her ambition had called it, a black Rolls-Royce slid up the curved driveway.
The door swung open.
Elliot stepped out as if he had been made from fire and dusk. Every move he made screamed power, strength, and that dark, mysterious appeal that made women of all ranks stop.
The sun hit the edges of his jawline, making the tips of his midnight-black hair shine like gold. Hayley held her breath.
She stood still in the parlor, her heart pounding like a puppy's. "Elliot," she said in a low voice. "How do I look?"
He looked at her and nodded. "You look good."
It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't worship either. He smiled softly, but there was something deeper than desire at the rims of his smile—maybe obligation. Guilt.
He thought she had given him something valuable five years ago. Something that made both of them different. The thought kept coming back to him, whether it was true or not.
I thought he was thinking, "I'll make it up to her." "Whatever."
Hayley smiled and wrapped her arm around his like a winner collecting her prize. I could feel it in the wind—the way her heart soared—as they moved toward the automobile, her heels clicking confidently on the marble floor.
She thought that every woman would be jealous of her tonight.
But some jealousy comes with a price. And some wolves, no matter how fancy they look, are still playing with shadows.