Footsteps echoed through the cold, dark underground prison. The stench and humidity clung to the body like a second skin.

Who would have imagined that beneath the glamorous Stella family mansion lay such a grotesque and nauseating basement, built solely to imprison a delicate young girl?

"Damn whore! What the hell did you do to make that tyrant so furious?!" A pale man kicked the iron bars of the cell several times, unable to distinguish the small figure huddled in the darkness.

"Where the hell are you?!" Kyle screamed again. Eris trembled, fearing the consequences of her brother's outburst. She clenched her hands into fists, refusing to lift her face.

The slender man, in his late twenties with dark hair, kicked the silver-lined iron bars again.

"Shit! Just so you know, if he decides to destroy the family, you won't be spared either! You'll die with us!"

"Calm down, Kyle. Don't you see she's in there?" Sabrina, a beautiful woman with seductive curves, pointed to the corner of the cell and smirked when Eris froze. Sensing the young woman's fear amused her far too much.

"Shit, fucking weirdo, why is she crouched there?" Kyle pulled the keys from his pocket. "Thanks, baby, as expected from my beautiful girlfriend." He flirted, blowing an air kiss to Sabrina.

Then, he unlocked the cell and dragged Eris out. She stumbled and fell to the ground, her body weak from malnutrition. Dizziness clouded her senses, and everything ached.

"Get up!" Kyle ordered. She tried, but all she managed was to remain on her knees, panting from the effort.

He strode toward her and gripped her chin, patting her cheek in irritation.

She didn't dare make a sound. Years of experience had taught her to keep her mouth shut and speak only when absolutely necessary, even if she was in pain or on the verge of sobbing.

"You're going to the office to fix the mess you caused. If you don't, your end will be worse than death. Do you understand?" His voice was low, chilling, laced with fury and contempt.

"Yes, sir." Eris kept her gaze down, unable to meet his eyes. He had always shown her that he was stronger, crueler, and utterly devoid of conscience.

Fighting was useless.

Would anyone in the world blame her for not wanting to be beaten? For not wanting to be locked up without food or water in a damp, pitch-dark place?

"Listen up. We need to make a good impression on that damned mutt Aleksi. He didn't believe me when I told him I made the perfume. I don't know what the hell you did, but you need to fix it. Say you were shy or sick, I don't care. Just calm him down. We can't afford to provoke him right now. Do you understand, bitch?"

Eris didn't respond aloud. She kept her eyes down and nodded slightly, afraid he would notice her deception.

Kyle released her and dragged her toward the front door, where several maids were waiting.

"Make her presentable. Quickly," he ordered.

"Good luck," Sabrina mocked, linking her arm with Kyle's as she walked away, smiling and swaying her expensive mermaid-tail dress—the price of which could have bought a dozen lives in the mansion.

The maids took Eris and practically carried her to the bathroom. For the first time in a long while, they bathed her, using products meant for Sabrina. Their movements were careful, as delicate as a feather's touch.

All of them were illegal slaves in the mansion. They shared the same pain—dreams that would never be, bound by heavy chains of resentment and injustice. None of them dared betray another. They knew the real enemy was the lords, not the fragile girl locked away like a possession.

They combed Eris' purple hair, braided it, dressed her in elegant clothes, adorned her with accessories, and forced her feet into uncomfortable yet refined shoes. They even applied makeup and perfumed her.

When they finished, Eris looked like a high-class lady.

She studied her reflection in the mirror, attempting to mimic Sabrina's elegance. The heels weren't tall, but they were difficult to adjust to. Every step she took looked like a cheap copy of a deer learning to walk. She felt ridiculous, as though she were playing dress-up, pretending to be someone she was not. But then again, even the maids had no idea who she truly was.

The real owner of the mansion.

Everyone had a different concept of her.

A slave? A perfumer? A "creator"?

She was nothing more than an exotic rarity.

Eris sighed, wiping the sweat from her palms on the fabric of her dress. She was nervous—she would finally meet Aleksi. Every time her brother spoke of him, he painted the picture of a ruthless beast, a wolf feared by all, a soulless killing machine.

But Eris had seen him before in heir visions. He didn't strike her as an evil Alpha. He simply upheld the laws between species. He followed the rules to the letter. He cared for humans, respected his pack, and defended his borders.

In Eris's eyes, Aleksi wasn't bad—he just played the role of a villain. A big, terrifying monster meant to instill fear and deter those who sought to harm others.

The maids led her to the reception room, where a sweaty Kyle and a smug, fox-eyed Sabrina awaited.

Kyle grabbed Eris's arm tightly, his nails digging into her delicate skin. He leaned in and whispered:

"He's the Alpha of Moon Shadow, the largest war pack in the world. Don't even think about offending him. Do you understand?"

Eris nodded and entered the office alone, but the room was empty.

She took cautious steps, scanning her surroundings. The office wasn't particularly large, and she had already checked her blind spots. Had he left? She glanced at the locked window, then at the door. Had no one noticed his departure? They were on the third floor—he could have jumped from this height, but why?

Eris sighed.

She had lost her gamble with fate.

There was nothing out of place, so she closed her eyes in defeat and slid to the floor.

She despised this house. She hated living with her so-called family. She loathed her past and everything it represented. More than anything, she wished to be someone else—to live a different life, even if only for a few fleeting moments. One without sadness, fear, or the constant weight of being a puppet.

She had seen countless futures and glimpsed endless possibilities at the cost of her blood and strength. And when she saw this opportunity, she seized it without hesitation.

But… all for what?

He was gone.

In every hopeful dream she had, he was there.

So who could blame her for obsessing over him, just a little?

She had believed she was finally on the path to freedom.

But now… 

If she jumped from the window, could she escape before they caught her?

She didn't have the courage to face her brother.

Her strength only extended to dreaming of a better future. One where she wasn't a slave in her own home, where she wasn't at risk of being sold to the highest bidder—after they cut off her hands to keep her "formula" a secret.

Eris lowered her head, letting her tears fall without ruining her makeup. If her brother saw that she "damaged his masterpiece" he would hit her.

A throat cleared, freezing her in place.

Someone was here.

Her body trembled. Who?

A sound came from behind the desk. Slowly, she lifted her gaze—and her breath caught.

A man sat in her brother's black leather chair, scrutinizing her with piercing gray eyes.

He had a commanding presence, broad shoulders, and a square jaw. His dark hair was tousled, and faint stubble shadowed his face. Dark circles marred his otherwise striking features, making his gaze even more intense. One foot rested on his knee as he sipped a glass of liquor—where had he even gotten it?

"Are you the creator?" His deep voice echoed in the room, laced with disbelief.

"I… I'm sorry," she whispered automatically, standing and lowering her head. "I didn't see you when I came in."