Chapter 2

Layla's POV: I whipped around, every muscle braced for a fight—only to find it was just Selena.

She clutched my jacket, blind to the cold fury in my eyes.

Grinning brightly, she held out a cheap metal key.

"This is the key to our tent," Selena said, pressing it into my palm. "Since you're heading back to camp, be a dear and pack up our luggage for us."

She swept her long hair over her shoulder, ostentatiously displaying the fresh bite on her neck.

"Oh, and cancel our campsite booking at the front desk while you're at it. Caleb and I will be busy in the suite tonight."

Caleb stepped out from behind her, smugness radiating off him.

He reached out and patted my head as one pats an obedient pet. He had always liked me docile—plain, undemanding, and no embarrassment in front of the Alpha circles he was so desperate to climb.

"Run along and get some rest, Layla," he said, his tone dripping with condescending patience. "Be good. Tonight I'll take you out for that famous wolfsbane roasted meat."

A bitter laugh nearly broke out of my throat. Because of my hidden White Wolf bloodline, wolfsbane was deadly to me. Even a trace of that toxic plant would swell my throat shut and suffocate me to death in agony—though to ordinary wolves it was little more than a heady seasoning, to me it was death. Five years together, and he had never once learned what could kill me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

An encrypted message from Griffin, Alpha of the Shadow Wolves.

"I've arrived at the luxury hotel at the foot of the mountain. I'm waiting for you."

I looked at Caleb and Selena, my face blank and unmoved.

"You're right," I said evenly, pulling my jacket free from Selena's grip. "I should go pack my things."

I turned, opened the door of the luxury car, and slid into the back seat.

The car tore away in a spray of dust, leaving the two of them far behind. I never once looked back.

The driver, a gray-haired werewolf well along in years, glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

"Leaving so soon, miss?" he asked politely.

"Mm." I watched the trees flick past the window and answered softly.

"That temple is truly beautiful," the driver sighed. "But the priests there keep terribly strict rules."

My eyes narrowed. "Strict?"

"Oh yes," he chuckled. "For a couple to hold a marking ceremony there, they not only have to file a written application—they have to pass a full three-day background check."

A heavy silence fell over the car.

This trip had been Selena's project from start to finish.

She had planned the itinerary. She had booked the temple visit. Only the campsite reservation sat under my name—my card had paid for it.

She knew perfectly well. That marking was never an accident.

My phone screen lit up with messages from the academy alumni group chat.

Selena was flooding the group with photos—her glossy-coated Omega wolf form romping and running side by side with Caleb's brown Beta wolf along the edge of a cliff.

"Look at Caleb's clumsy paws! Not scary at all!" Selena typed, attaching a whole row of laughing emojis.

Caleb replied to the group at once.

He posted a photo of Selena's wolf draped heavily across his back.

"@Layla, look at this! All this thick fur weighs a ton—she's about to flatten me!" Caleb typed, determined to drag me into their revolting little game.

Then Selena posted one last photo.

A selfie of her and Caleb cuddled beside a moonstone glowing with phosphorescent light.

That moonstone was the sacred site I had always dreamed of visiting, to beg the Moon Goddess for her blessing.

Selena had stolen my dream, and now she flaunted it in my face.

I stared at the screen, expressionless, feeling nothing in my heart but a bone-deep revulsion and cold.

"Have fun." I typed the two words, and the screen went dark.

The car rolled to a stop before the grand entrance of the luxury hotel at the foot of the mountain.

I stepped out into the cool evening breeze on my cheeks.

In that instant, I stopped breathing.

Beside the entrance stood a man in an immaculately tailored black suit—tall, commanding, radiating an authority that brooked no argument.

The moment I drew near, a scent of staggering intensity crashed over me like a tidal wave.

The fresh fragrance of deep pine, interwoven with the sharp, cold sting of rain.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a war drum; my blood surged hot and roaring. Deep in my soul, my white wolf tore at my consciousness with a deafening, possessive roar—Mine!

The mate bond. The ancient soul contract by which werewolves find their destined partners.

Griffin turned his head, and those deep, piercing eyes locked onto me instantly.