Chapter 2

Hannah Price POV:

After curling on that cold bed all night for the benefit of Penelope's spies, I rose as morning mist covered the estate's hedges. I put on a plain white cotton dress and suppressed my natural White Wolf scent until it was barely detectable.

Walking down the oak hallway from my room, I controlled my breathing, keeping my heartbeat at the rapid, fluttering pace of a frightened rabbit. Last night was only the beginning. Penelope Carlisle, a high-ranking pureblood female, was the true ruler of this household's inner court. If I did not erase her suspicion, I would never make it out the front gates alive.

Stopping before the second-floor sitting room, I knocked softly.

"Mother, it is Hannah, here to pay my morning respects."

A personal maid pulled the door open, releasing a heavy wave of rose essential oil mixed with Penelope's dominant pureblood scent. Penelope sat on a high-backed velvet chair, a porcelain coffee pot and several territory financial reports spread on the table before her. In werewolf households, silver was strictly forbidden on dining tables because even a trace of it burned our skin and poisoned our inner wolves.

I walked in, stopped three paces away, and sank into a deep curtsy. I bowed my head low, deliberately exposing the pale, undefended nape of my neck.

To a werewolf's instincts, baring the neck meant total submission. Looking from beneath my lashes, I saw Penelope's narrow eyes squint as she studied me.

"You caught the cold wind by the lake last night. Are you feeling better?"

Her voice was flat and oppressive. I answered softly, letting a slight tremor slip into my tone.

"Thank you for your concern, Mother. I drank hot water and am fine now."

"You are a smart girl, Hannah," Penelope said, taking a sip from her porcelain cup. "Kaelyn made a scene last night, but you know her temper. If we refuse her, both families will look ugly."

She was testing me to see if I held a grudge or would ruin the selection out of spite. I immediately raised my head, my eyesrimmed with red and filled with submissive confusion.

"Mother, I have never dared to ask for things that do not belong to me. Kaelyn is legitimate, and young master Daryl has a bright future. They are a match made by the Moon Goddess."

A tear rolled down my cheek, and I wiped it away quickly, acting the part of a heartbroken outcast accepting her fate.

"As long as I can share the family's burden, where I go and whom I marry is entirely up to Father and Mother."

At my spineless, self-deprecating words, Penelope's tight jaw visibly relaxed. To a woman like her, a weak illegitimate daughter was far easier to use as cannon fodder at headquarters than an ambitious one.

"Since you think this way, my teachings were not wasted on you," Penelope said, her tone softening as she set her cup down. "The Alpha King's selection is brutal, but you have a pretty face. If you behave, you might find a minor post in the central city, which is better than living under someone's thumb here."

I nodded obediently, clasping my hands over my stomach.

"I will follow all of Mother's arrangements."

Penelope waved a maid over with a gold-rimmed plate of buttered scones.

"Sit and eat something. You look thin as paper. Do not embarrass the Sheppard name when you reach headquarters."

Sitting on the very edge of a small round stool, I took tiny bites of the scone while my mind remained cold as iron. In my last life, showing my intelligence had made Penelope and Kaelyn join forces to crush me; this time, my docile mask would stay on until my hands were around their throats.

Just then, the butler knocked and hurried in, his face pale.

"Madam, Miss Kaelyn is kneeling outside the Master's study again! She swears she will starve herself to death if the Master does not finalize the swap today."

Penelope's brows knitted together in disgust.

"That brainless fool! What a disgrace!"

Standing up to adjust her shawl, she glanced down at me sitting quietly with my scone, her satisfaction growing by the second.

"Rest here. I will go take a look."

Once the door clicked shut behind her trailing skirt, the timid misery vanished from my face. Setting down the half-eaten scone, I walked to the window and watched the guards hurrying toward the main study.

The selection at headquarters had ruthless entry thresholds; a low-ranking bastard would be thrown out at the first genetic scan. Hearing Alvan's angry roar echo from the end of the corridor, I smoothed my white dress and walked out of the sitting room toward the study.