Isaldora stepped into the hotel lobby, her gaze sweeping the room. The air buzzed with power—businessmen, investors, even a few not entirely human. Everyone here was someone. And then there was her.
Her midnight-blue dress shimmered under the chandeliers, crystals at the neckline catching the light like scattered stars. Blonde hair pulled into a sharp ponytail, heels tapping over marble, her cool smile gave nothing away as hushed voices trailed in her wake.
"Ah, Ms. Isla Aether," a smooth voice greeted. "At last, we meet the elusive heiress behind such an exceptional empire."
She saw a man in his thirties approaching her, polished in a tailored suit, smiling as he extended his hand.
Isaldora returned the gesture with her own measured smile, her grip brief but firm. "You must be Mr. Revadi."
"The only," he replied with a grin. "Thank you for granting us your presence tonight."
"You're being generous," she countered lightly. "I should be thanking you for inviting me."
"Please," Revadi chuckled. "I guarantee everyone here has been dying to meet you." His words were warm, well-practiced—the kind of charm that oiled business deals.
She nodded, letting him lead her through the sea of glittering guests. Isaldora let him lead her through the glittering crowd, her poised smile never faltering as she exchanged pleasantries with the investors who flocked to her. She was mid-conversation when a chill traced her spine. She felt a heated gaze on her. She turned her head to the side and her eyes locked with a handsome man.
He stood only a few feet away, broad shoulders cutting a figure of dark elegance, a glass of whiskey loose in his hand. Clad in a midnight suit that defined his sharp form, but it was his eyes that hit her hardest—steel-grey, locked on her like a match struck in the dark.
Power radiated off him, impossible to miss. He was clearly a werewolf; she could sense his aura. Must be an alpha, she thought.
"Ah, Miss Aether," one of the investors chimed smoothly, breaking the silence that stretched too long. "Allow me to introduce Mr. Kaelith Bane. CEO of Bane Co.—they've practically built Duskhowl from the ground up. A name well respected in… exclusive circles."
Interesting, Isaldora thought, her smile tightening at the corners as she looked at him fully. So this was the Alpha Prince of the Duskhowl pack.
Kaelith had been watching her since the moment she walked in. He wasn't the type to stare—women came and went without stirring even a flicker of interest. But her? She'd stopped him in his tracks. He'd heard Aether's name whispered here and there, but never cared enough to look closer. Until now.
Seeing her, he felt something he couldn't shake. A pull, sharp and raw, like gravity itself had shifted. It wasn't just her beauty, though God, she was breathtaking, that would've been easy to brush off. No—this was deeper, hungrier. Stronger
His wolf—usually calm, controlled, plus one who never gave a damn about women before- prowled restless beneath his skin, pushing at him to get closer.
Isaldora felt the weight of his stare—hot, unflinching. It wasn't the usual wide-eyed admiration she was used to. No, this was different. There was a hunger in it, raw and daring… and it left her half amused, half thrown off.
"Miss Aether," she heard him say at last, extending his hand, stepping forward, a bit closer, his voice smooth, but it sent shivers down her spine. "You've got quite a presence. It's as if the room itself shifted when you arrived."
"Mr. Bane." She glanced at his outstretched hand, then accepted it with a graceful shrug. "What can I say?"
The moment their palms met, a current jolted through her. Her eyes widened for only a heartbeat before her composure returned, her smile unreadable.
Kaelith's reaction was less subtle. His wolf surged, snapping to attention. Her touch burned—not the usual spark of attraction, but something sharper, stranger. He inhaled deeply, testing her scent. To his dismay, it was faint. Too faint. Almost muted to pick. Confusion stirred through him because, despite the pull coiling in his chest, everything about her screamed human yet powerful.
Something about her wasn't adding up.
Isaldora caught the subtle way he lifted his head, sniffing the air around her. Her brow arched, the barest flicker of amusement curving her lips.
She tilted her head, tone light but laced with edge. "You're standing awfully close, Mr. Bane."
His lips curved, slow and dangerous. "Am I?"
The investor, sensing the shift, chuckled weakly and backed away. "Well… I'll let you two get acquainted."
The space between them grew quieter, heavier, though the room still pulsed with chatter and clinking glasses.
Kaelith didn't step back. If anything, he let the silence stretch, his gaze steady on her, unhurried and unapologetic. "You don't like people in your space," he murmured, voice low, "but you haven't moved."
Her lashes lowered, concealing the flicker in her eyes. "Maybe I'm simply being polite."
"I've heard quite a bit about Aether lately," he said at last making some space between them, swirling the amber in his glass. His voice was smooth, measured, but the weight behind it was unmistakable. "Three years, wasn't it? And yet your company moves like it's been established for decades. Partnerships. Expansions. You've set roots in places where most can't even find the door, it's rare to see that kind of momentum."
Isaldora's smile remained calm, practiced. "You've been keeping tabs, Mr. Bane. I wouldn't expect anything less from a well-known name."
He gave an amused shrug, holding her gaze, unflinching. "Aether isn't just progressing—it's… astonishing. Especially now that I see, for someone so young."
"Though I would say you are nothing different," she continued smoothly, tilting her glass in his direction. "Bane Technologies and Co. didn't exactly crawl to its throne, did it? You built an empire in less than a decade. Some would call that… unnaturally fast."
The faintest flicker touched his expression—surprise, maybe amusement—but it was gone before it could settle.
Isaldora had heard quite a bit about Bane Technologies and Co. It was one of the most highly circulating names, with its most advanced technologies and devices.
"Unnaturally fast," he echoed, a quiet laugh under his breath. "Or simply… inevitable."
"Mm," she hummed, her eyes glinting. "A matter of perspective."
For a moment, their smiles mirrored each other—polished, unreadable, edged with challenge.
"My, my. What a scene," a smooth voice cut in from behind, dripping with amusement.
Both Isaldora and Kaelith turned as a tall figure strolled toward them, unhurried, wearing his arrogance like a tailored suit. His cologne was too strong, sharp, and expensive, followed by the lazy grin of someone far too sure of himself.
Isaldora's brow arched at him; he was surely a vampire by the dark aura around him. She noticed Kaelith's jaw tick, and his whole stance hardened and sharpened with sudden coldness. The corner of her mouth curved—well, this just got entertaining. Wolves and vamps hadn't mixed well for centuries.
The vampire's eyes slid over her with infuriating ease, lingering as if he had the right. He gave a low whistle. "Careful, darling. That dress could start a casualty report. Hearts dropping left and right."
He leaned a little closer, completely ignoring the man beside her.
Isaldora turned slightly, expression cool as glass. She didn't know him, but one thing was clear: she didn't like him. "And you are?"
He simply offered a shallow bow, grin never faltering. "Adrien Valemont. Investor. Admirer. And, with any luck—an acquaintance."
Kaelith's shoulders went taut, his gaze narrowing to knives as his grip on the glass in his hand tightened. Somehow, he was pissed at the vampire flirting with Isla.
Adrien finally glanced at him, feigning surprise. "Well, well. Fancy seeing you here, Bane." His smirk widened, as if tasting the tension. "Didn't think this would be your kind of crowd."
Kaelith didn't bother to answer. His silence was blade-sharp, his glare enough to speak.
Adrien turned back to Isaldora, extending a hand. "You're breathtaking tonight. Dangerous."
Isaldora stared at his hand, then, disregarding it, shifted her gaze to his face, smile curling sharply at the edges. "Then I suggest you keep your distance, Mr. Valemont. For your own good."
She noticed Kaelith's lips almost curving into a smirk as his grip loosened on the glass, which she was surprised to see intact.
Adrien only chuckled, pulling his hand back like he didn't mind. "Noted."
The air between him and Kaelith hummed with unspoken challenge, a predator's standoff wrapped in civility.
Isaldora glanced between them, interest cooling, but something else caught her attention—movement at the edge of the hall— a shadow slipping through the edges of the hall.
"If you'll excuse me," she said lightly.
But before she passed Kaelith, she paused. Her eyes met his, slow and deliberate. That invisible pull between them tightened.
"We'll meet again, Mr. Bane," she said softly, her voice carrying something dark, edged with promise. "Soon."
And then she was gone. Kaelith didn't move—gaze fixed on her retreating form.
Isaldora slipped through the guests with practiced ease, her steps deliberate, poised. At the edge of the hall, where shadows pooled, she slowed—sensing a presence behind her.
"Well," came a voice, cool and amused, "hell of a boring party, isn't it?"