Chapter 1

The day I was Marked as Julian Thorne's second mate, my mother wept until her eyes were raw.

She had raised me for sixteen years to be the most honored She-Wolf in the realm. Not some man's second mate.

I tried to soothe her. "They say Julian Thorne is gentle and mild. Being Marked by him might not be a bad fate."

That night, I was led into the mating chamber.

Julian lifted the ceremonial veil from my face.

He was in his crimson mating robes, his expression cold as still water.

When he saw my face, his brow tightened. A long moment passed before he gave a faint, unreadable smile.

Then Julian spoke.

"Has he ever seen you?"

I froze.

He…

Damien?

Three years we had been betrothed, and I had never once met the Crown Alpha who held the realm in his palm.

I only knew he was beautiful to look at, ruthless in his rulings, and never interested in She-Wolves.

Of course, that was before he met Seraphina.

Now the whole realm knew — he had been undone by love, had torn another wolf's mate from his side.

And me…

I would not call it love, what I had once felt for Damien. But I had hoped.

Thinking of that, I looked up at Julian.

"No."

Before he could answer, my voice caught and I said, "Julian. Come to bed."

Damien's wolves were still posted outside our door.

This Marking night was one neither of us could escape.

This was Julian Thorne's second Marking.

He had already taken Seraphina as his mate, and when he tried to loosen the lacings of my gown, his hands were awkward.

The guilt ate at him. For a moment, he looked ready to turn and walk out.

I saw his reluctance and took his hand. His fingers were cold, and when they brushed my shoulder, a chill ran across my skin.

"Julian. You don't have to force this," I said. "After tonight, you can think of her, love her all you like. I won't complain."

"We only need to put on enough of a show. I'll handle the mating cloth myself."

Being Marked by him had already cost me every shred of my honor.

If he walked out now, if word reached Damien's ear —

It wouldn't just be me. The entire Marchetti Pack would suffer for it.

When I finished speaking, Julian was silent for a long time.

Just as I was certain he wouldn't even play along, he pulled me against his waist and pressed his lips to the curve of my neck.

His voice was rough.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault."

"You're a good girl."

But good girls never got to choose their own lives.

The night I had received Damien's broken-engagement decree and his Alpha Command binding me to Julian —

My younger sisters, none of them Marked yet, had pooled three thousand silvers and tried to smuggle me away.

I had refused.

"I've had sixteen years of every comfort from the Marchetti Pack. I owe them my life. If I run, what happens to the Pack? What happens to you?"

When a High Alpha rages, a hundred thousand wolves die.

The old High Alpha was on his deathbed, and even before taking the throne, Damien already held the Council in his fist.

The true highest in the land.

The mating candles flickered. Julian had left a trail of marks along my throat, but he never kissed me.

After a long while, when the wolves outside stopped moving, I let out my breath.

I pushed him off me. "You sleep on the floor."

Then I opened a clean cut on my finger and let the blood drip onto the mating cloth.

Beside me, Julian's eyes had gone dark and unreadable.

He watched me for a long time. Finally, he spoke.

"He'll regret it."

A sentence with no beginning and no end.

Dressing at dawn. Bowing before the elders. The candles burning down to nothing. After a full day of it, I was hollowed out.

"What?" I yawned. I didn't understand.

He smiled and sat down at the table, still in his robes. "Nothing."

The wolves Damien had sent took the bloodied mating cloth away, pleased.

The next day, I heard the news.

Seraphina was sick.

She refused to let the Pack Healer near her. She spent the whole night crying by the tall arched window.

Damien flew into a rage. He punished every Healer in the house. Then, to coax a smile from his beloved, he had his wolves ride through the night to bring her the antique harp she had always wanted.

How did I know all this?

Because I had spent months hunting for that same harp. I had worn the luthier down for half a year, and just a few days earlier she had finally agreed, with great reluctance, to sell it to me.

Now it belonged to someone else.