Chapter 3

Christiana POV:

Brittanie wore a dazzling silver-white couture gown. The small red mole beneath her left collarbone stood out starkly against her diamond necklace as she leaned against Enzo like a proud swan.

Enzo made no move to push her away. He stood under the flashing cameras and murmuring crowd without once scanning the room for me.

My fingers tightened around the stem of my champagne flute. Drawing a deep breath into my tight chest, I stepped forward in my twelve-centimeter heels and walked straight toward them.

"Enzo, you're late," I said, stopping a single pace away. My voice was calm, carrying the undeniable authority of the pack's Luna while positioning my body to cut Brittanie out of the reporters' camera angles.

Enzo's brows drew together, but before he could speak, Brittanie covered her mouth and let out a soft gasp.

"Oh, Luna! I am so sorry. I ran into some trouble on the road, so Alpha Enzo was kind enough to pick me up on his way here."

She emphasized the words "on his way," releasing a thick wave of her lily scent to press against my senses in an obvious attempt to dominate me.

"Is that so? What bad timing," I replied, looking at her with flat, cold eyes. "Though I don't recall the Dhark Pack sending banquet invitations to unranked outsiders."

Brittanie's eyes turned red instantly, and she looked up at Enzo with a trembling lip.

"Enzo, am I causing trouble for you?"

"Enough, Christiana," Enzo snapped, a low pulse of his Alpha aura pressing against my chest. "She is my invited guest. Watch your attitude."

My heart gave a sharp, painful squeeze at his public favoritism, but I lifted my chin higher.

"Since she is a guest, have the ushers seat her in the visitor section."

I turned my back on both of them and walked toward the head table, ignoring the burning stares following my every step.

Halfway through the dinner, the heavy air in the hall became suffocating. I excused myself from the table and walked down the long marble corridor to the restroom to touch up my makeup.

When I pushed the heavy door open, Brittanie was standing alone in front of the gilded mirror, applying bright red lipstick.

Seeing me in the reflection, she dropped her fragile act immediately, her lips curving into a vicious sneer.

"How much longer do you think you can wear that Luna crown, Christiana?"

"At least it is still on my head tonight," I said, walking to the sink and turning on the faucet without looking at her.

"Really? A barren waste of a wolf who can't even give the pack an heir—how long do you think Enzo will tolerate you?" she hissed, stepping closer to me with triumph gleaming in her eyes.

I whipped my head around and locked my ice-blue gaze onto hers, letting a cold flash of my hidden bloodline surface. Brittanie flinched and stumbled a step back.

"Don't celebrate too early, Brittanie," I said, pulling a paper towel to dry my hands. "Lies always rot from the inside out."

She let out a sharp scoff and clicked out of the restroom in her heels. As she brushed past me, beneath her heavy lily perfume, my nose caught a faint, foul stench of decay—the unmistakable scent of a packless Rogue.

Frowning at the disturbing smell, I left the restroom and walked out onto the quiet terrace to clear my lungs in the cool night breeze.

"A solid counterattack, though heavy on defense and light on offense," a crisp, commanding female voice spoke from the shadows of the pillars.

I turned to see a short-haired woman in a dark gray tailored suit stepping into the moonlight, leaning lightly on a carved ebony cane. It was Deanna Rhodes, the senior partner of Sterling & Thorn, the most powerful legal guild on the continent.

"Ms. Rhodes." I nodded respectfully toward the iron lady of the high courts.

"You graduated first in your class at the Supreme Law Academy, Christiana," Deanna said, walking up to the railing beside me with eyes as sharp as a hawk's. "Don't let a rotten political marriage dull your claws."

"My claws were filed down by five years in the estate," I replied with a bitter curve of my lips.

"The law never rusts as long as you still have the spine to wield the gavel." Deanna reached into her suit pocket and held out a gold-edged business card. "Sterling & Thorn always has a seat for you. Provided you are ready to crawl out of this decaying contract."

My pulse sped up as I stared at the card. Taking it with steady hands, I slid it into my clutch.

"Thank you, Ms. Rhodes. I will think about it carefully."

When I walked back into the banquet hall, Brittanie was already gone. The memory of the Rogue scent clinging to her skirt kept my nerves pulled tight until the banquet ended late at night. I walked out to the manor entrance and waited on the cold stone steps for forty minutes before Enzo's car finally pulled up—bringing a freezing draft and a lily scent twice as thick as before.