The moment the breeze shifted, I knew something was wrong.
I couldn't explain it, not exactly, but a chill crawled up the back of my neck like a whisper of a presence I couldn't see. Someone was watching me. I felt it deep in my gut, the way animals know a storm is coming.
I turned my head slowly, pretending to admire the glowing white lilies planted near the fountain. But my heart was pounding. Too fast. Too loud.
Without another thought, I slipped away from the stone path and moved toward the deeper part of the garden. Past the shrubs, the carefully planted rows of silver roses, and toward the maze – a quiet place no one really bothered with. Not during parties. It was too dark, too easy to get lost in.
I didn't go far, just enough to slip behind the hedges and hide my body from view. The entrance alone was thick enough with flowers and tall enough to shield me. I crouched behind a wall of ivy, holding my breath, trying to listen.
Nothing. No footsteps. No breathing.
Only the music playing faintly in the distance, and the chirp of crickets in the underbrush.
I let out a slow breath. Maybe I imagined it. The last thing I wanted was to be seen like this. Outside my room during a gathering filled with high-ranking wolves and guests from all over. If someone from the pack saw me... if they told Finn...
I started to step back out of the hedge when a voice stopped me cold.
"Are you looking for me?"
My entire body jolted. I spun around so fast I nearly stumbled.
There.
Just a few paces away stood a man, partially hidden in the dark edge of the hedges. His arms were crossed, and a silver mask covered most of his face, catching slivers of moonlight between the leaves.
A guest? My first thought was that it must be a masquerade party theme. That would explain the mask.
The man had a great build and was tall. Taller than Finn. His shoulders were broad, his stance relaxed but... commanding. Like someone who didn't need to prove anything. He looked like he could be a Beta, or even an Alpha.
But I noticed his scent barely lingered. Faint. Not at all like what I'd expect from a wolf of high rank. Most powerful wolf shifters had a distinct scent that hit you before they even spoke—thick, earthy, wild. This one was barely there, like a phantom.
Books and the pack elders have always said that the weaker the scent of a shifter, the weaker the wolf he has.
Beneath his mask were eyes that glinted through the dark. They were sea-green, sharp, watching me like I was some kind of puzzle.
"It is very convenient," he said, "for a prisoner to escape on the night of a party, don't you think?"
My breath caught. His words sank in slowly, and I snapped out of my thoughts.
"I'm not—" I started, then faltered.
Was I not?
"I'm not escaping," I said instead, softer this time.
He didn't move. Didn't even blink.
"You have sharp senses," he said, voice like a blade wrapped in silk. "You sensed I was watching. Not many can feel that. But you don't have your wolf yet, which I find strange. You seem old enough to have one."
My hands curled into my skirt.
He was right about my senses. I used to train with my father before he was executed. He was a Beta, strong and reliable.
But the stranger was wrong about my wolf.
I had her. I was accompanied by her, just before they locked her away.
After my father's betrayal, the Alpha stripped us of everything. My mother and I were bound with the wolfbind, bands carved with the ritual markings of the cursed's seal. We couldn't shift, couldn't connect, couldn't even smell like full wolves. It was the same thing they used on criminals. And families of criminals.
I swallowed hard and forced my voice steady. "I see that you're a guest. You should return to the hall, sir."
He didn't reply right away.
His eyes narrowed, just slightly, like he was trying to read between the lines of what I didn't say.
I kept my face neutral.
Don't provoke. Don't react.
Still, I couldn't help but wonder. Who was he?
The way he spoke wasn't like the others I'd seen. His voice was too smooth, his words too deliberate, as though everything he said had been carefully chosen. And those eyes… piercing, sea-glass sharp. Not a single flicker of drunken amusement or idle curiosity.
"So you want me leave you alone now? After distracting me?"
His tone shifted, playful on the surface, but laced with something colder beneath. The kind of tone that made my blood chill, even though he hadn't moved a step.
What…?
My breath caught. What did he mean by that?
I stared at him, confused, wary. I didn't understand. Distracting?
"Aren't you here to distract me on purpose?" he asked, his voice twisting into a scoff, as though he'd already decided the answer. "Did your Alpha know I came?"
My eyes widened.
When he said "your Alpha" it sounded like a warning. Like Finn shouldn't know anything at all. Which meant this stranger… wasn't invited.
Who was this man?
I opened my mouth, forcing the words out. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. I don't even know you."
"Really?" His gaze was razor-sharp now.
Then his eyes slid over me, slowly, from head to toe. Not lasciviously, but as though he was measuring me.
"I don't think you're a prisoner," he said at last. "You just bathed. I can smell your flowery soap all over you, scented with rose and lavender. That nightdress…" He tilted his head. "Quite a good quality fabric. Not what a servant wears to sleep."
My heart sank.
"You knew someone was watching you," he continued. "You didn't go back inside. Didn't look for help. Didn't even go close to the guards. Instead, you came here to the shadows. You led whoever it was away from people. Which means there's a good chance you wanted me to follow you."
He wasn't accusing me like someone unhinged. He was breaking down my every move like a strategist. Calculated.
It terrified me more than shouting would have.
"I didn't…" I took a step back, barely able to find my voice. I didn't expect this conversation to go this way.
He took a step forward.
I tried not to react, but my instincts screamed at me to run. My wolf stirred faintly inside me, muffled by the wolfbind on my wrist.
"You're intimidating me," I whispered. "Why?"
His sea-green eyes didn't waver. "Why would you lure me here, then?"
"I wouldn't," I said, and I meant it. "Why would I even do that?"
His voice dropped. "Because you've discovered my identity? Who knows?"
I frowned. "I haven't discovered anything."
"You seem… distrustful," I added, more softly now. "Your life must've been hard. But accusing people like this… that's not—"
"Don't sweet talk me," he snapped, cutting me off. "You think I don't kill girls?"
My breath caught.
He didn't shout it. He didn't snarl.
But his words made me shiver.
And I realized then that I had no idea who I was talking to.
This man could be dangerous in a way that I couldn't fathom.
"If you really want to kill me," I gritted my teeth. "Then do it." I wouldn't mind. Maybe I was better off dead.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he watched me with a stillness that made my skin crawl. Like a storm deciding whether or not to strike.
The silence between us stretched.
Then, finally, he spoke, "Tell me, what's your name?"
I hesitated.
That pause, brief as it was, seemed to amuse him. A corner of his mouth twitched, like he already knew I wouldn't answer.
I parted my lips…
But before I could speak, the sound of a loud howl ripped through the garden.
I froze.
That wasn't just any howl. It was sharp. Piercing.
There was no mistaking it. It came from the messenger of East Hill tower.
A signal of danger.