“Holy crap,” I breathe, staring at the stranger in the mirror. “I look like I’m about to win an Oscar or something.”
Seraphina giggles, clearly pleased with herself. “I’m happy you like it,” she says, bowing slightly.
Like it? Understatement of the year. This girl’s got the golden touch. She could be styling celebrities any day now. I so love my appearance.
But then, reality hits. My excitement dims just a bit as I remember… I don’t really belong here. I’m not one of them. This is my first big appearance, and I have no clue what I’m walking into. Nerves bubble up in my chest, and the whole idea of this fancy dress-up starts to feel a little too much. My hands are sweaty, and I’m damn nervous. I draw in a breath and then release it, repeating the exercise three times. After that, I’m feeling just fucking fine.
“You ready to go downstairs?” Seraphina’s voice pulls me back to the present. She steps away after adding the final touches to my makeup.
I take a deep breath, smoothing out the fabric of my dress. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
With Seraphina leading, we head down the stairs. The soft click of my heels on the marble floor does nothing to calm my nerves. The closer we get to the venue, the heavier my breathing becomes. Sweat pools in my palms, and I swear I’m about to start hyperventilating.
The sound of classical instruments and low murmurs fills the air as we approach the entrance. Crap, this is really happening. I mentally slap myself-come on, Jasmine, you’ve got this.
“You’ll make your entrance here,” Seraphina says, bowing slightly before she scurries off, leaving me to fend for myself.
Great. Just freaking great.
Straightening my spine, I step into the hall, my heart thudding in my chest. The place is packed, and as soon as I enter, every damn Lycan’s head swivels in my direction. Their lips move, whispering God-knows-what, but their eyes stay glued to me, judging, evaluating.
Ignoring their stares, I scan the crowd, frantically searching for Ryder. I need him right now, like a lifeline in this sea of predators.
Then, I feel it. His eyes on me. Piercing through the crowd. I follow my instincts, snapping my head toward the far corner of the room. And there he is.
My heart skips a beat. He’s standing there, looking like he just stepped off the cover of GQ-broad shoulders and a tailored black suit. His left hand is casually tucked in his pocket like he owns the place. Well, technically, he does. His confidence? It’s ridiculous. Sexy. Intimidating.
And those eyes? Those ocean-blue eyes pin me to the spot. My stomach flips. How on earth did I manage to get my hook on Ryder Kael?
Taking a deep breath, I start making my way through the crowd, feeling like a mouse trapped in a room full of hungry cats. The Lycans keep staring, their gazes flicking over my dress, my hair, my very existence. It’s not entirely hostile, but it sure as hell isn’t friendly either.
I can practically feel their noses twitching, picking up the scent of the lowly Omega in their midst.
And Ryder? He hasn’t moved an inch. He’s just standing there, watching me struggle, a smirk playing on his lips. Oh, he’s enjoying this. I can see it in his stupidly perfect face. He’s leaving me to fend for myself.
Typical.
The murmurs grow louder, and suddenly, the room’s attention shifts. I glance in the direction of the new hubbub and… oh great, Isabelle. She struts in, her long blonde hair packed into two ridiculous ponytails. By the Moon Goddess, even on a dinner night, she still dresses stupidly. Someone needs to teach her how to dress like a…
She’s grown up for real, not like some Barbie dolls. Barbie dolls are even prettier than she is.
Her electric blue dress is a fashion disaster, but hey, it’s working-she’s got everyone’s attention.
She sways past me, chin high, not even bothering with one of her usual snarky comments. Weird. But hey, I’m not complaining.
I watch as she heads straight for Ryder, batting her lashes and biting her lip like she’s starring in some rom-com. And Ryder? Oh, he smiles. He actually smiles. For real? Was this some sort of setup between them both to ridicule me? My chest tightens. Seriously? He’s gonna smile at her and just leave me hanging? That’s super fantastic!
Rage boils under my skin, but I stand tall. He might be having fun toying with my feelings, but I’m not gonna give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. Not tonight.
The room spins, and I can’t do it anymore. This whole charade? It’s bullshit. I spin on my heels, determined to get the hell out of here. I’m not sticking around to be the punchline of Ryder’s little joke.
As I storm off, my mind racing, I mutter under my breath, “Screw this,” completely oblivious to everything around me-until a voice stops me in my tracks…
I roll my eyes and turn around to face Isabelle. My hands tingle, and I have to fight the urge to slap that smug grin right off her face as she stops behind me. I shoot her the most loathing expression I can muster, wishing-just for a second-that looks could kill. At least then, I’d have one less problem on my plate.
“Feeling out of place?” she whispers, her voice dripping with condescension. I inhale deeply, resisting the urge to lock eyes with her. The last thing I need is to engage. This could easily spiral into a full-blown fight, and while I wouldn’t mind rearranging her face, it’s not worth the hassle. Not tonight.
“It must be overwhelming for someone like you to be in a room full of true leaders,” she continues, her eyes flicking toward Ryder before landing back on me.
“Don’t worry, though.” She flips her ponytail with exaggerated flair, circling me like a damn vulture. “You’re just a temporary fixture. And trust me, lady, everyone here knows it.”
Temporary. Lady. Every single person. Her words sting like a slap, burning through me. It’s bad enough that I left my pack, ended up in another, and still, the stigma follows me like a shadow. If it’s not about me lacking a wolf, it’s about me being a werewolf in a Lycan’s world.
I plaster a sweet smile on my face, one that feels almost unnatural. If I let her see she’s getting to me, it’ll be like blood in the water, and the Lycans will circle. No, I’m not about to become their prey.
“Thanks for the concern, Isabelle.” I shrug casually. “But I think I’ll manage. Ryder takes such good care of me that I’m hardly overwhelmed.”
Her smile falters, and I catch the brief flicker of annoyance in her eyes before she rolls them dramatically. “Oh, I’m sure you will. After all, Ryder’s… fond of you.”
“About that.” I make a show of scrunching my face into a mock-thoughtful expression. “You really don’t have a clue what being ‘temporary’ or an Alpha’s lady is, do you? While you’re over there fooling yourself into thinking your fiance is smitten, I actually make him happy. If you know what I mean.” I wink, watching as her face darkens.
“And I get it.” I lower my voice, leaning in just slightly. “It must suck to share someone who claims to love you with others.” The emphasis on the word “others” is enough to make her nostrils flare. I remember what she said this morning about Ryder’s other lovers. “But unlike some bitter ex, I’ll enjoy every second of my time with him. While it lasts.” I shoot her a playful smile. “Because, darling, I mean more…”
I step back, trying to free myself from her grip, but Isabelle’s nails dig into my skin. Her face contorts, and for a moment, she’s speechless. But then, she gasps loudly, her expression twisting into something far more sinister. Before I can react, she steps closer, gripping my arms with her cold hands and yanking them upward. I wriggle frantically, trying to shake her off, but she’s stronger-she’s Lycan, after all.
“Everyone, please! A round of applause as I introduce to you all, The Alpha’s… temporary lady!” Isabelle’s voice rings out, triumphant, as if she’s just won some twisted game.
The room erupts into laughter, the word ‘temporary’ hanging in the air like a cruel joke. My face burns with humiliation. I should’ve kept walking, should’ve ignored her, but now, now I look weak, pathetic. Everyone knows what ‘temporary’ means. It means being a placeholder until the real deal comes along.
I want the ground to swallow me whole, to take me far away from these Lycans and their judgment. My eyes sting with unshed tears, the humiliation sitting heavy in my chest. But no, I won’t cry. Not here. Not in front of them.
With a surge of anger, I jerk my arms free from Isabelle’s grip, wincing as her nails leave scratches behind. I’ve had enough. Lifting the train of my dress, I turn on my heel and rush away, heart pounding in my chest. I feel like a damn Cinderella, running from the ball.
“Baby Vixen,” Ryder’s voice cuts through the noise, low and husky, like warmth on a cold night. I freeze, my body stiffening at the sound of those words I hate. Slowly, I turn around.
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