The car door opened with a click, and Selene stepped out, her gown sweeping the ground like a tide of night sky poured into fabric. The lamps caught on the shimmer of indigo and silver, and for a fleeting second, she almost looked like she was carved out of starlight. Yet the face above the gown was not the one the world remembered.
The witch's enchantment held flawlessly.
Her once-silver hair was now a river of midnight black, falling in soft waves that brushed her bare shoulders. Her skin gleamed a touch warmer, her eyes shaded differently, her very scent altered—nothing of her true self clung to her now.
Even if someone from her past walked right in front of her, they would never think of Selene Moonveil, the Alpha Eirik's daughter who had died a year ago. And they would never imagine she was the same witch who had spilled Alpha blood with her own hands.
And that was the point.
