ELENA'S POVS
The chattering of people, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic pulse of the music echoed through the ballroom like a never-ending drumbeat inside my skull. My head throbbed with every note, every laugh, every passing conversation. Crystal chandeliers shimmered overhead, scattering fractured light across velvet gowns and polished boots. The scent of expensive perfumes, spiced wines, and roasted meats hung thick in the air, too sharp, too overwhelming. The laughter and whispers seemed to close in around me, a suffocating net.
I needed air.
I pushed through a cluster of giggling she-wolves, their perfume clouding around me, trying to steady my breath. A waiter passed by with a tray, and I hastily grabbed a glass of water. The cool liquid rushed down my throat, but the pressure behind my eyes didn't ease. If anything, the dizziness grew worse.
My vision blurred at the edges.
The next second, my knees buckled.
Strong hands caught my shoulders just before I collapsed.
"Are you okay?" a calm, deep voice murmured near my ear—smooth, steady, and oddly comforting.
I tried to respond, but my tongue felt heavy. I forced the words out, weakly. "I... I need air."
Without hesitation, the stranger's grip tightened, steadying me. He guided me through the grand arched doorway and into the cool evening beyond. The sharp change in temperature hit me like a blessing. My heels clicked softly on the stone path as he led me past rows of trimmed hedges and flowering vines that glistened faintly under the moonlight. Fireflies danced lazily in the distance, tiny sparks in the velvet dark.
We stopped beside a garden lounger, and he gestured for me to sit. I sank onto it gratefully, the air finally filling my lungs properly. For several long moments, we sat in silence as I focused on breathing—slow, deliberate—until the pounding in my head dulled to a faint throb. I wasn't dizzy anymore.
"I'll get you some water," he said softly.
I opened my mouth to protest, but he had already turned and disappeared through the door again. I let my head tilt back as I stared up at the night sky, dotted with stars that peeked through drifting clouds. The quiet hum of crickets was a balm compared to the chaos inside.
The sound of footsteps returned. He reappeared beside me, handing me a fresh glass of water. I accepted it, though I didn't drink.
"I'm okay now," I murmured. "I just needed to get out of the crowd. It's... overwhelming."
He nodded in understanding, standing there patiently as if he had all the time in the world.
"It's been years since I last had an episode like that," I added. "Usually it's triggered by alcohol, but I haven't had any tonight."
His eyes studied me carefully. They were jet black, a shade so dark they seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. And yet... there was nothing cold about them. His expression was calm. Soothing, even.
"You should still drink something," he offered again, gently nudging the glass toward me with a small, encouraging smile.
I chuckled lightly, trying not to seem rude. "Thank you, but... water before a meal makes me nauseous. I already made that mistake earlier."
His smile faltered, disappointment flickering across his face. I felt guilty immediately, even though I was just being honest. I was about to take a polite sip just to make him feel better, but then his expression brightened again.
"I'm Walter," he said, extending his hand.
"Elena." I placed my hand in his, surprised by how warm it was. A small smile played on my lips before I could stop it.
I hadn't even wanted to come to this party. My mother had practically dragged me here again, insisting that appearances mattered, that chances at bonding couldn't be wasted. And yet... maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.
"Elena..." he repeated, narrowing his eyes. "That name sounds familiar."
"I'm the eldest daughter of the Alpha of Green Lineage Pack," I explained, already dreading the realization that would likely follow.
His brows lifted slightly. "Ah. I knew I'd heard it somewhere."
And there it was—that brief flicker in his eyes. That subtle shift in tone.
Of course he'd heard the rumors. Everyone had.
I looked away, embarrassed. "You've probably heard the stories," I said with a nervous laugh. "They're... not very flattering."
Walter's voice was steady. "I won't lie, I've heard things. But rumors don't judge a person. I prefer to decide for myself."
Something warm unfurled in my chest at his words. His presence was so grounding, so sincere. I wasn't used to that. Most people either avoided me or stared at me like a tragedy they couldn't look away from.
I already like him, I thought before I could stop myself.
My voice betrayed my thoughts. "Are you here alone? Or are you... looking for someone?"
He paused for a second too long. "I had a mate," he said quietly. "But... it ended. Not something I like to talk about."
"I'm so sorry," I said, instantly regretting the question.
Walter offered me a faint smile. "It's all right. I'm here for business. Mating parties can be really good for making acquaintances." He leaned in slightly and whispered, "And you never know what kind of deal you'll walk away with."
His unexpected joke made me laugh, the tension easing.
"My reason for being here isn't business," I admitted. "And it's definitely not exciting. I'm sure you've heard the tragic tale by now."
"There might still be someone out there who can love you unconditionally," he said, his voice sincere.
I met his gaze. His black eyes held mine in a quiet, magnetic pull. Something in me stilled—like maybe, just maybe, someone saw me beyond the rumors.
"Would you like to go back inside with me?" he asked.
I hesitated, torn. "I'd love to, but I think I'll stay out here a little longer."
He nodded, then turned and walked away. I watched him disappear into the shadows of the hallway, biting my lip.
Maybe I should've said yes.
Maybe I'd ask him to dinner sometime.
Would that make me seem desperate?
The thought barely had time to form before a voice slithered out of the darkness behind me.
"Still going for the nice ones, huh?"
The voice was unmistakable. Familiar. Infuriating.
I whipped around... no one.
I spun the other way... and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw him standing before me.
Alex.
"Miss me?" he asked, eyes gleaming with amusement.
Every nerve in my body lit with irritation.
"What are you doing here?" I snapped.
He stepped closer, his smirk widening. "Judging by that face, you missed me more than you're willing to admit."
"You're delusional."
"Still as feisty as ever," he said, savoring the words. "I've always liked that about you."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't you have anyone else to annoy tonight?"
"I did. But then I saw you and just couldn't resist. You're like a magnet for trouble."
I crossed my arms, refusing to back down. "I don't have time for your games, Alex."
I turned to leave and almost walked straight into him again. My heart skipped a beat, betraying me.
"Stop doing that," I snapped.
He chuckled. "Still easy to spook, huh?"
"The guy earlier... Walter, was it?" he said, feigning thoughtfulness. "He's got... interesting taste in women."
I clenched my fists. "Do you always eavesdrop on private conversations?"
"When the conversation's about you? Absolutely."
I exhaled sharply, trying not to scream. "I came late and didn't have time to change. If you're here to mock my outfit..."
Alex took a slow, deliberate step forward. "No. I came because it's you."
The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. He was standing too close again, his eyes which were blue a second suddenly changed to a dark shad of red and his gaze were locked onto mine. I hated the way my heart reacted. Hated the heat creeping up my neck. Hated how I couldn't look away.
Alex, the ruthless Alpha of Darkblood Pack. The one everyone feared. The one whose blood was whispered to be tainted with vampire lineage. The one who made my blood boil and my thoughts scatter every time he opened his mouth.
And he was looking at me like I was the only person at this party.
"I came... because it's you," he repeated, softer this time, almost dangerous.
My pulse thundered in my ears. Part of me wanted to shove him away, to put as much distance between us as possible. The
other part—the one I hated, the one I refused to acknowledge—thrummed with a sharp, unwanted awareness of him.
And I had no idea how to respond.