Arya rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. “You’re 18, not a child hiding behind oversized sweaters anymore. You’re allowed to exist without apologizing for it.” She gently tugged at the fabric of the dress, letting it fall properly over your hips. “Besides, it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong. It just… fits you.”

You shifted uncomfortably, fingers gripping the soft material. The gown was deep forest green, hugging your waist before flowing down in soft layers. The neckline dipped lower than anything you’d ever worn, showing the curves you’d spent years hiding. Your hair, usually braided tightly, had been brushed loose down your back.

“I don’t like the attention,” you muttered, glancing toward the mirror. The girl staring back looked… confident. Strong. Not like the quiet shewolf who kept her head down at pack gatherings.

Arya softened. “I know. But tonight isn’t just any gathering. Every pack in the region will be there. You deserve to walk in like you belong — because you do.”

Your stomach tightened at the thought of the gala. The Bloodfang pack’s territory was enormous, their manor rumored to be carved into the mountains themselves. And then there was Alpha Kael Nightshade — powerful, respected, intimidating. Stories about him filled the packs: ruthless in battle, fair in leadership, and still unmated.

You swallowed. “What if… what if Madison sees me like this?”

Arya snorted. “Then she’ll realize she can’t dim you anymore.”

Before you could respond, a knock sounded at the door. A servant’s voice filtered through. “The Alpha requests everyone gather. The cars leave in ten minutes.”

Your heart started pounding. This was real now.

Arya squeezed your hand. “Come on. If you hate it, we’ll leave early. I promise.”

You nodded slowly, taking one last look in the mirror before turning away.

⸻

The Bloodfang manor was even more overwhelming than you imagined. Lanterns lit the long stone path, music drifting through the cool night air. Wolves from different packs mingled in elegant clothing, laughter mixing with the scent of pine and expensive perfume.

You kept close to Arya, trying not to notice the glances. Some curious, some admiring, some calculating. You instinctively folded your arms, but Arya gently nudged them down.

“Don’t hide,” she whispered.

Just as you took a steadying breath, the atmosphere shifted.

It was subtle at first — conversations lowering, heads turning. A ripple of respect moved through the crowd. Then you felt it.

A pull.

Warm, electric, like a thread tightening in your chest.

You looked up instinctively.

At the top of the grand staircase stood him.

Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair streaked slightly with silver at the temples. His presence alone commanded the room. But his eyes — sharp, golden — locked onto you instantly.

Alpha Kael Nightshade froze mid-step.

The pull in your chest snapped tight, stealing your breath.

Arya’s grip on your arm tightened. “Oh… wow,” she whispered, barely audible.

Kael descended slowly, never breaking eye contact. The noise of the gala faded around you, your pulse loud in your ears. Every instinct screamed recognition, even before your mind caught up.

Mate.

Your stepmother’s voice cut sharply from somewhere behind you, full of disbelief. “No… that can’t be—”

Kael stopped directly in front of you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. His expression softened in a way that didn’t match the intimidating stories.

“Finally,” he said quietly, voice deep and steady. “I’ve been waiting a long time.”

Your throat went dry. “I… I didn’t think—”

His gaze flicked briefly to the way you held yourself, shy and unsure, then back to your eyes. “You don’t have to think anything right now. Just breathe.”

Behind him, the entire ballroom had fallen silent.

And somewhere across the room, Madison’s jealous glare burned like fire.