1. Phaedra

PHAEDRA

" J ust smile and nod," Connor had instructed me only hours before the party was set to begin. "If you so much as disagree with anything I say, I'll make sure you regret it."

Despite Connor's many, many faults, he knew how to host an extravagant ball. The very ballroom where he had rejected me five years ago was decorated with dozens of fine silks and his family tapestries that had been in the Salcedo line since they took power generations ago.

Tables were dressed in cloth plush enough to grace the beds of those in high-wolf society. On top of them were dishes of sashimi, caviar and tartare, as well as delicate hors d'oeuvres wrapped in puff pastry dusted with crystals of shaved salt. Servants moved through the crowd with round trays balanced on their palms, offering flutes of champagne to the guests.

I was wearing a long gown the color of peaches. The fabric was rich and silky, but the ruffled piece at the neckline was made from an itchy tulle. This was the dress Jean and Beatrice had been working on a couple of weeks ago. It didn't feel as right as Eleanor's dress had on me.

It wasn't just the dress, though. Nothing about this felt right. My being in this huge manor, surrounded by fake smiles and surface-level conversations did nothing for me. All of high-wolf society was in attendance, not wanting to disappoint or lose favor with their new alpha. It wasn't uncommon for allegiances to shift when there was a transfer of power. Connor's temper was well known, so even people who I knew disliked him were here to shmooze up to him.

I tried not to let the disgust show on my face. I hated that I had to pretend to be aligned with Connor. I hadn't been aware Jean and Beatrice designed my dress to match Connor's suit. It was of a light blue plaid, but the inner lining was the same shade of peach. His hand was wrapped around my waist to keep me from wandering off.

Connor was close enough that I could spit on him. He grinned his megawatt smile at Michael and his mate Sheila. Edgar had always kept them at arm's length because they were known to spread gossip, but Connor was clearly taking a different approach. He was enjoying the way Michael spoke to him, using respectful honorifics like "sir" and "alpha". He relished the attention so much that he couldn't even pretend he was grieving Edgar's death.

Connor had made it clear that my duty during this stupid party was to play the role of his mate. I was to pretend my ousting from high-wolf society and the past five years had never happened.

So, here I was, putting on the mask of Connor's chosen mate. It made me want to throw up.

Occasionally, I caught the guests giving me dubious, confused looks. They were wondering why I was here. As far as they knew, I had been banished and wasn't coming back. I was glad to see I wasn't the only one struggling to play this part.

"Phaedra?"

At the sound of my name, I looked at Sheila. She was a very slender woman with a face that was all sharp angles. Her teeth were almost as sharp as her cheekbones as she smiled at me. It was the kind of expression that raised my hackles. Both she and her husband were watching me with hawk eyes. I knew instinctively that she was about to try and start trouble.

"Yes?" I replied, keeping my wariness off my face. I'd honed the skill while working in Den City.

"You seem to be reacclimating to high society well," Sheila said as if we were old friends.

"Yes. It's like I never left."

She smiled again. "But, darling, where have you been hiding all this time? We missed you terribly at these parties."

I opened my mouth to tell her the truth—that I'd been living in Den City and working, but Connor beat me to it.

"She's been staying with my men in a secure location," he said.

"O-oh." Sheila faltered, her keen gaze flashing to Connor. "Is that so?"

"Yes. I had my men keep her safe while she was learning how to find her wolf. It was the least I could do for my chosen mate."

His arm tightened around me as he said that last part. When I looked at him, he smiled down at me, as if he expected me to be happy that he'd saved me from embarrassment.

"Of course, Alpha." Sheila inclined her head in deference. "Of course you would keep her safe."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I didn't care to pretend that I hadn't scalded my hands in hot water wringing out clothes for families in Den City because I wasn't ashamed of the way I'd lived. Of course, I'd hated it at the time, but now that I was surrounded by all of these fake people, I was starting to miss being as inconsequential as I'd been in Den City.

Connor, however, was very much ashamed of my life. With just a few sentences, he'd explained away my five-year absence from high-wolf society and made himself the hero. It was beyond ironic that he felt ashamed about the punishment he inflicted upon me. As phony as these people were, Connor was the biggest offender of them all. And unfortunately, I couldn't do or say anything against him.

If I did, he would make the man I loved suffer.

I couldn't see Asher, but he was at the party, too. He was the only one from the Dagger pack in attendance. His role was also clear. He was meant to be proof that Connor had done what Edgar couldn't: beat the Dagger pack.

Connor had spun a narrative that Asher killed Edgar, and in retaliation, Connor put Asher and the Daggers in subjugation.

My heart twisted whenever I thought about that day.

At night, when I closed my eyes, I could still see the look of surprise and betrayal in Edgar's eyes—the same green as his son's—as he fell to the floor, blood gushing from the gash in his throat. In the quiet, I heard the sound of his gurgling death rattle. My feelings about Edgar had been complicated during those five years, but I mourned him. It wasn't right that such a strong man had died that way.

Which only made my standing here next to his murderer even more difficult.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted my parents, Diemut and Livia Revera, lingering awkwardly near to the refreshment tables. We made eye contact before I averted my gaze. They hadn't come to talk to me, even though it was obvious they wanted to, but they had relaxed a bit after Connor explained my five-year absence.

I let my hand fall to my dress. The fabric wouldn't wrinkle no matter how hard I gripped it, so it was the perfect outlet for me to let out some of my emotion.

I didn't want to speak to them. I hated that I still loved them, that I had missed them, and that I was glad they looked healthy and well. I'm sure they believed the lie Connor had just told Sheila and Michael. It was easier to believe the lie than it was to know they had abandoned me without offering any help or even a goodbye.

The anger in my heart triumphed when I snuck another glance at them. They were looking solemnly at their plates. I was glad they understood that I didn't want them to come near me. And yet, I wanted to leave Connor's side and feel their embrace. Would they smell like I remembered?

As my heartbeat continued its strange, stuttering rhythm beneath the sound of violins and piano, Connor moved on to the next group of people who wanted to pay their respects. From this new spot in the ballroom, I spotted a group of Connor's guards. And as soon as I realized there was a possibility I could see Asher, I did.

He was dressed in a suit as black as his feathery hair. Knowing Connor, he'd chosen the dark color to make it easier for Asher to disappear in the crowd, but all it did was highlight the beauty of his smooth, tanned skin and bring out the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes. My wolf, who had been growling throughout this unpleasant party, started to whine. The fated-mate bond between us was gone, but she missed him as badly as I did.

His broad shoulders and muscular arms filled his suit out very well, and my stomach fluttered as I remembered exactly what he looked like beneath it. Not too long ago, Asher and I had been fated mates. He was meant to be mine, but we'd gone against fate and paid Kestrel to dissolve our mate bond. I had never regretted anything more. My heart, my wolf, and every fiber of my being knew I should have been standing at his side, not Connor's, and yet we were apart.

The moment our eyes met, everyone and everything around us became frozen in time, and we were the only two who knew it. I remembered how wonderful it was to be in his arms, to feel his warmth and be inundated with his masculine, woodsy scent. I wanted nothing more than to be there again.

My body shifted in his direction at the same time that he shifted toward mine. One of the guards noticed and pushed him back a step, bringing the lovely moment to a harsh end.

He and I might as well have been separated by an actual wall, not just high-wolf society.

The only reason Connor had Asher at this party was to parade him around like a trophy, his pet, which was ridiculous. If it weren't for the curse keeping Asher in check, he would have been able to overpower Connor. The thought of him showing Connor who was more powerful in front of all of these posh, egotistical men and women made me laugh before I could stop myself.

Connor stopped mid-sentence to glance at me, as did the man he was speaking with. I quickly covered the laugh with a delicate cough.

"Excuse me," I murmured. "Just a tickle in my throat."

"Would you like me to have someone fetch you water?" Connor asked.

"No need, but thank you." I took a sip of my champagne.

That convinced them, and they continued their conversation. I didn't feel relieved.

Asher's gaze dropped to my waist, to Connor's arm, and the soft expression on his face morphed to one of rage. He looked like he wanted to rip Connor's arm off. Honestly, the idea of him striding over and pulling me away from Connor and against his strong chest made my heart flutter. I wanted that so badly, but it would only end in disaster.

My heart pounded as I met his gaze again. Of course Asher wanted to kill Connor—he was his jailer. I gave a slight shake of my head. Don't . I willed him to understand. Please. His jaw clenched, and he looked away. I was relieved he'd understood me, but I felt so cold without his attention.

I shouldn't have missed it. I didn't deserve to have it. The reason Asher was here like this was because I'd made a hasty deal with Connor to spare his life. It was all I could think of to save him. It was my fault he was in this predicament in the first place.

A couple of weeks ago, in the final week of April, I'd made him come with me to Kestrel's hut so we could get rid of the fated mate marks. I believed I was doing the right thing—mainly for me, but also for him. I was wrong.

We'd successfully gotten rid of the marks, but the process took longer than expected. Asher was left with only hours to prepare to attack Edgar and rid his pack of the curse, but by that point, his pack was in the grips of ferality and couldn't help him. He stormed the Salcedo manor on his own, got so close to killing Edgar… only to fail. That was my fault too, because he found out that Connor had gotten hold of me. He chose to try and save me instead of finishing Edgar off. And now… here we were. At this stupid party.

Now that the fated mate marks were gone, he was free to forget about me and move on. But how could he when Connor had control of him?

I hated myself for putting him in this predicament. Asher should hate me, too.

Once Connor had finished making his rounds, it was time for him to address his people. The music stopped, and he took to the stage, taking me along with him. It was like he was worried I was going to run off if he didn't have me right at his hip. How stupid. Where could I go? The feral lands?

Connor cleared his throat. "Thank you all for attending despite the tragic circumstances surrounding my ascension," he said. "I wish this could be a wholly positive celebration, but the death of my father was a blow to us all. So much so that even my sister and mother weren't able to attend."

Because of Edgar's death, Connor's ascension celebration was supposed to be postponed for a couple of days, but Connor insisted things move forward, not allowing Penny or his mother time to grieve. So, they weren't here. I missed Penny's presence, though I was glad she was getting the chance to grieve.

"We will all mourn his loss and take time to reflect on how great an alpha he was." Connor lowered his head and let a few moments of silence pass. About a beat too early, he resumed talking. Of course, he wouldn't let his father take all his thunder. "Fortunately for everyone, I was able to do his memory proud by bringing his killer to justice."

He gestured toward the guards, and one of them grabbed Asher by the shoulder and pushed him toward the stage. The mood shifted as Asher walked through the crowd. The wolves of high society had ignored him while he was surrounded by guards, but now every eye in the room turned toward him, and the air filled with malice.

Asher must have felt the weight of all that attention, but if it bothered him, he didn't let it show. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and kept his head high. Instead of ignoring the glares, he met many of them head-on, his piercing stare causing a few to look away. He was fierce, intimidating, and so beautiful it made my heart ache.

An elbow jabbed me in my side, and I flinched.

"Try not to look so much like a lovesick puppy," Connor hissed in my ear. "You're mine now. Don't forget that."

I gritted my teeth and schooled my features. I couldn't believe I'd let my longing for Asher show on my face. Thankfully, the attention wasn't on me, or people might have figured out I had feelings for the man who they believed killed Edgar.

Asher climbed up the few stairs to the stage with the guards just behind him. They walked to the opposite end of the stage from Connor and me.

"Though this mongrel has taken someone very special away from us," Connor continued, "I intend to bring in a new era of success for the Wilcox pack. This is especially true now that I have this incredible woman by my side." As the crowd began to clap, he kissed my temple, as if we truly were in love. It took every bit of my strength not to stomp my heel down on his foot.

Connor finally let me go, and I was sure I felt Asher's eyes on me, but I couldn't look at him to confirm. My face was burning, but hopefully high-wolf society would view that as embarrassment for the sudden PDA, and not what it was: shame.

"And my new pet will be here to witness me ring in this new era." Connor gestured to Asher again. "Now that I've brought him to heel. Watch." He showed his awful grin, and my heart sank. "Sit."

Again, every eye shifted toward Asher. My heart started to pound hard and fast in my chest. He didn't move.

"You heard him," one of the guards barked. "Sit, mongrel!" He tried to force Asher to his knees by pushing down on his shoulder, but Asher turned toward him, eyes blazing gold with rage. The guard hesitated for a second, then raised his baton.

"Stop!" Connor commanded. His harsh voice spread silence across the room. He walked across the stage toward Asher, and the guard backed away a few steps. Connor and Asher stood head-to-head, eyes locked on each other. "I am the only one who can make him do anything," he said. "Now, Asher, sit."

Asher's lips started to pull away from his teeth. I could practically see his mind deciding whether to put Connor in his place or do as he was told. After a few tense moments, his features smoothed out and he slowly, reluctantly, sat where he stood.

"That's what I thought." Connor grinned with malice and triumph.

A tight knot formed in my stomach, and I struggled to keep the tears from pouring down my face. This was so, so wrong.

It was my fault Asher had to endure such petty, tedious disrespect, and I hated it.