Gabriella
The dress was black.
Not the soft, romantic black of evening gowns you see in magazines. This one was sharp—high neck, long sleeves, fitted like a second skin down to mid-thigh, then a slit that climbed dangerously high when I moved. Aiden had laid it out on the bed himself while I was still in the shower, steam fogging the mirror. No note. No explanation. Just the dress, black heels, and a thin silver choker that looked more like a collar than jewelry.
I stared at it for a full minute before I put it on.
When I stepped into the hallway, he was waiting. Dark grey suit, no tie, top button undone. Hair pushed back. Looking like sin wrapped in money.
His eyes dragged over me once. Slow. Appreciative.
"Perfect."
I didn't thank him.
He offered his arm. I took it. Muscle hard under the wool. We walked down the grand staircase together like we were a real couple, not a predator and his latest catch.
The ballroom was already full when we reached the bottom. Pack elders, council members, alphas from allied territories, their mates, their betas. Crystal chandeliers throwing light like broken glass. Music—something classical and low—curling through the air. Everyone turned when we appeared.
Aiden stopped us at the threshold. Leaned down so his lips brushed my ear.
"Smile, little wolf. Touch my arm. Look at me like I'm your whole world. Fail, and I'll make sure everyone here knows exactly how sore you still are from last night."
My stomach twisted.
I forced my lips to curve. Small. Soft. The practiced smile I used to use for family photos when things were falling apart at home.
He led me in.
Heads bowed. Murmurs rippled. "Alpha Aiden." "Luna Gabriella." The title landed on me like wet cement. Luna. Mate. His.
We moved through the crowd like sharks through water. Hands shook his. Cheeks kissed the air near mine. Compliments dripped like honey—how radiant I looked, how lucky the pack was, how beautifully we matched.
I nodded. Smiled. Said "thank you" in the right places. My hand stayed on his arm the whole time. Fingernails digging in just enough that he'd feel it. A tiny rebellion he'd probably enjoy.
Halfway through the room, Jax appeared.
The scarred enforcer from the bet photos I'd never seen but somehow knew. Tall, blond, mean smile. Drink in one hand. Eyes raking over me like I was meat on display.
"Alpha," he drawled. Clapped Aiden on the shoulder. Then turned to me. "Luna. You're even prettier up close."
Aiden's arm tensed under my fingers.
Jax leaned in closer. Voice low enough for only us. "Heard you run fast. Heard you bite too. Bet that makes things interesting at home."
My cheeks burned.
Aiden's hand covered mine on his arm—squeezed once. Warning.
"Careful, Jax," he said, smile pleasant. Voice lethal. "She's still learning her place."
Jax laughed. Raised his glass. "To learning. And to the game."
He walked away.
I felt sick.
Aiden turned us toward the dance floor. Pulled me into his arms without asking. One hand low on my back, the other clasping mine. We moved into the slow waltz like we'd practiced it a hundred times.
The music wrapped around us. Bodies close. His scent everywhere.
"You're doing well," he murmured against my temple.
"Stop."
"Everyone's watching. They see a devoted mate. A strong alpha with his perfect luna. They don't see the bruises under the sleeves. They don't see how wet you got against that tree yesterday."
I dug my nails harder into his hand.
He didn't flinch. Just spun me once—graceful, effortless—then pulled me back flush against him.
"Keep it up," he said softly. "Or I'll drag you to the coat room right now and remind you who you belong to. In front of whoever walks in."
My breath caught.
He smiled down at me. Tender. Loving. For the cameras. For the pack.
I hated how my body responded anyway—how my traitor heart kicked faster when he looked at me like that.
The song ended.
Applause.
He bowed his head to the room. I copied him. Perfect couple.
Then he guided me toward the head table. Sat me beside him. Poured me wine with his own hand. Leaned close like he was whispering sweet nothings.
"Drink," he said. "You're shaking."
I took the glass. Sipped. Tasted nothing.
Across the table, Kade watched us. Tech genius. Psychopath smile. He raised his glass in a mock toast. Mouth forming one silent word.
Game on.
I looked away.
Aiden's hand found my thigh under the table. Slid higher. Fingers brushing the slit in the dress. Resting there. Possessive.
I froze.
He leaned in again. Lips to my ear.
"Smile, Gabriella. Or I keep going."
I smiled.
Small. Brittle. Perfect.
Inside, something cracked wider.
Not surrender.
Not yet.
But the mask was getting heavier.
And I wasn't sure how much longer I could wear it before it fused to my skin.