This was torture. Actual, bonafide, rip-my-own-teeth-out torture.
The gala hall was suffocating—a glittering zoo of wolves in designer gowns, polished tuxes, and masks of fake civility. And me? I was the caged animal, stuffed into a tux that fit too tight around my neck, standing stiffly next to my father. My whole body was one wrong move away from shattering.
I tugged at the collar, the fabric practically strangling me, and scanned the room. Across the hall, Ethan stood grinning like a smug idiot, Teely on his arm, her silver dress shimmering under the chandeliers. Ethan caught my gaze and threw me a big thumbs-up, followed by a wink so exaggerated it made me want to chuck him through the nearest window.
"You look great, Groom-to-be," he mouthed, grinning like this was all some big joke.
Teely elbowed him in the ribs, though even she was struggling not to laugh.
"Focus," my father growled low enough for only me to hear. His eyes scanned the room, probably searching for the poor girl he thought should be my future Luna.
I bit back a retort. God forbid I embarrass him in front of his high-and-mighty business partners.
The first introduction of the night had gone as well as I'd expected: a complete disaster. The girl's father had rattled off her achievements like she was a prized racehorse, and the girl herself looked like she wanted to crawl under the nearest table.
"So, Luca, what do you think?" my father asked as they finally moved on to harass someone else.
"I think she's scared of me," I muttered.
"She'd grow to respect you," he said dismissively. "You need a Luna who understands duty."
"And what if I don't find one tonight?" I finally looked him in the eye, my voice sharp.
His jaw tightened. For a second, I thought he might actually hit me again. But instead, he leaned in, voice low and venomous.
"If you fail to pick a Luna, I will. Or I'll find an Alpha who can lead this pack without embarrassing us. Humans, Luca? They're beneath us. If you're too weak to let go of her, you don't deserve this position."
His words hit like a ice cold bucket of water, but I didn't flinch. I just stared him down, silently daring him to push me further. He didn't.
Ethan sidled up to me, clearly sensing the tension. "Rate that one," he whispered, gesturing toward another girl walking by with her father—a tall man whose suit jacket looked ready to burst.
"Girl's a solid six," Ethan murmured. "Dad? Three. No, wait. Two-point-five. Those shoes are a crime."
"Piss off," I hissed, though the corner of my mouth twitched.
Teely appeared, holding two champagne flutes. She handed one to me. "You look like you need it."
"Gee, thanks," I muttered, downing it in one go. It didn't help.
Teely laughed softly. "Relax, Luca. You'll survive this. Probably."
"Only because I haven't strangled anyone yet," I shot back, earning another chuckle from Ethan.
"Seriously, though," Ethan said, dropping his voice. "You've gotta pick someone, or your dad's gonna lose his mind. And let's be honest, the guy doesn't have much sanity left to lose."
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "I'm not picking anyone. None of these people matter."
"Your funeral," Ethan said with a shrug. But there was understanding in his eyes. He knew. He always knew.
The night dragged on, every interaction blurring into the next. Girls smiled politely, their fathers droned about alliances, and I nodded through it all, seconds away from bolting.
Then it hit me.
A scent.
Faint but unmistakable. Like rain on warm soil, mixed with something sweet and familiar—something her.
My chest tightened, my wolf snapping to attention like someone had just poured gasoline on a fire.
I froze, the world around me fading as I tried to track it. My head whipped left, then right. Where? Where was it coming from?
"Luca?" Ethan's voice sounded far away, muffled like I was underwater.
There.
My eyes locked on the grand staircase at the far end of the hall. A girl was descending, her dress shimmering like emeralds under the light. Her movements were slow, deliberate, and I couldn't see her face yet. But I didn't need to.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
She was holding the arm of a man—tall, broad-shouldered, and irritatingly familiar. But I couldn't focus on him.
Not when she finally turned her head.
Quinn.
My legs nearly gave out. My breath caught, my wolf howling inside me.
It was her.
After everything, she was here.
And she wasn't alone.