Finished
Andi froze for a beat. Then he shot the driver a venomous re before mming the passenger door shut with an exaggerated huff. With a pout, he stomped around the car and dropped into the back seat, arms crossed and brimming with indignation.
The car rolled forward, smooth and silent as a panther, but the tension inside was palpable.
Andi kept stealing daggered nces at Riley, his nose ever so slightly wrinkled in dramatic disapproval. Riley, in turn, could only offer a helpless smile, unsure whether tough or sigh.
Duke cleared his throat and spoke with the authority of a Beta trying to herd a particrly unruly pup. “Andi, cut the attitude. Tonight, your only job is to protect Miss Riley’s look. She needs to be wless. You’re the only one Alpha Lucien trusts with that.”
Andi straightened, smoothing an invisible wrinkle in his sleeve. “Of course. If I’m involved, she’ll stay radiant through a hurricane, much less a highborn feast.”
Riley couldn’t help but chuckle at his ir, the tension easing. “Thank you, Master Andi. Truly. I wouldn’t have made it through tonight without your help.”
At that, Andi’s posture softened. His lips quirked upward, though he tried to maintain his usual high–and- mighty front. “Hmph. At least you have taste. You stick to what I say, darling, and you’ll outshine every Luna–in–waiting in that banquet hall.”
Outside the tinted windows, the world blurred into streaks of silver and gold as the Duskgrave convoy sped through the city. Soon, the great ck Lycan–ss Rolls–Royce glided toward the Grand Celestia Hotel–the most luxurious venue in the Northern Territories.
4
The vehicle shone like obsidian under the morning light, polished to perfection, its family crest of the Duskgrave Pack etched into its side in shimmering silver.
The moment the car halted at the entrance, attention shifted.
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The air rippled with interest as heads turned. Alphas, Betas, and highborn daughters of noble packs paused mid–conversation to watch.
The driver exited first, his motions crisp and respectful, opening the rear door with a smooth, trained hand.
First to emerge was Andi, who stepped out with all the theatrical grace of a purebred show wolf. His hips swayed, his eyes glittered, and he clearly reveled in the stolen nces from passersby.
But the main event had yet to appear.
Duke rounded the vehicle with elegant precision and extended his arm, posture perfect, his bearing that of a warrior–escort assigned to royalty.
A pale, slender hand emerged from the car, and the murmurs around the entrance silenced instantly. Every breath stilled.
Then Riley stepped out.
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And it was as if the moon herself had descended.
Finished
Golden sunlight bathed her figure, gilding the delicate tendrils of hair that framed her face. Her long gown shimmered like morning mist over rose petals–soft, ethereal, and achingly graceful. The sheeryers of the dress fluttered with each breath of wind, trailing behind her like a living aura.
Her every step was elegance–neither rushed nor hesitant, but purposeful and poised, a she–wolf raised from ashes to stand among kings.
Her brows were smooth arches of dusk, her eyes luminous pools that held both tragedy and resilience. Her lips, touched with the hue of wild roses, curled into the barest smile–enough to steal hearts and silence.
scorn.
Gasps rippled through the gathering crowd.
Not a single whisper stirred the air.
The banquet entrance, moments ago alive with chatter and prideful boasts, now hushed under the sheer force of her presence.
Even the pack guards at the hotel entrance bowed their heads slightly–not because they had to, but because something primal in them demanded it.
The driver bent swiftly, lifting the hem of her gown to protect it from the stone steps. Behind her, Andi preened with pride, as if her transformation were the greatest masterpiece of his career.
All eyes followed as the group began to ascend the steps toward the grand hall.
But not all gazes were warm.
Among the crowd stood members of the Family Vale. ric Vale–Riley’s father–stood frozen, disbelief and fury twisting across his aging features.
He hadn’t expected her.
Not here. Not like this.
Not radiant, not proud, not powerful.
His jaw clenched, rage seething behind his narrowed eyes. That cursed little mutt. He had tried to throw her to the wolves–literally and figuratively–and somehow, she had survived. Worse, she had risen.
Dressed like a Luna. Standing beside the Duskgrave heir’s Beta. The Matriarch’s personal car.
It was unforgivable.
She’d defied the fate he wrote for her–and now dared to steal the spotlight on the most important night in the Northern Pack calendar.
Whore, he thought viciously. She wants more than Lucien. She wants a ce at the top. She wants all of them. Every highborn name. Every powerful male in the room. She’s here to seduce and w her way into the bloodline.
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Finished
Beside him, his wife’s expression was moreplicated.
Zara Vale frowned, arms crossed tightly. She felt no joy at seeing her daughter looking so well. No pride. Only bitterness.
Since Riley had vanished, their precious son Kael had fallen apart. Booze, fights, and humiliation became his norm. Zara had spent sleepless nights worrying–for him.
Not for the daughter she’d cast away.
And now, to see Riley reemerge not in chains but in silk, adorned in jewels and glory, was too much.
Before anyone could stop her, Zara stalked forward–shoving through the gathered nobles–and raised her hand in a high arc.
With a snarl, she struck.
A sharp crack echoed at the entrance.
Gasps followed.
“Riley Vale!” Zara screamed, voice sharp and venomced. “You ungrateful little witch! We’ve suffered while you waltz around like royalty! Your brother nearly died because of you!”
For a heartbeat, silence stretched, taut and electric.
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