My fingers tighten around the phone 129

Emma’s POV
The mansion pulsed with life—bodies writhing to thundering music, splashes from the infinity pool mixing with shrieks of
laughter, and the heady scent of alcohol and werewolf pheromones saturating the air. I leaned against the marble kitchen
counter, watching the chaos unfold through half-lidded eyes. Bella had outdone herself this time. Premium liquor flowed
freely from the hands of scantily-clad servers, while the DJ booth she’d installed in the east corner sent vibrations
through the floor strong enough to rattle the crystal chandelier overhead.
“Stop sulking and drink this.” Bella materialized beside me, thrusting a massive tumbler of electric blue liquid into my
hands. The glass was cold against my fingers, condensation immediately dampening my palm. “You look absolutely
pathetic moping in the corner of your own party.”
I rolled my eyes but took a long, burning swallow that made my throat tighten and eyes water. “This isn’t my party. It’s
yours. I didn’t want any of this.”
“What you need,” Bella insisted, tapping one perfectly manicured nail against my glass, “is to show everyone you’re still
queen bee. That losing Ethan was your choice.”
The mere mention of his name made my stomach clench. “Is he really coming?” I hated how small my voice sounded,
how desperate.
Bella’s smile was all teeth. “Trust me. My invitation was… compelling.”
I took another gulp of the cocktail, grimacing at its saccharine sweetness barely masking something bitter underneath.
Already I could feel warmth spreading through my limbs, my thoughts becoming pleasantly fuzzy around the edges.
Whatever Bella had mixed in was strong—even for werewolf metabolism.
“You drugged me,” I accused, though without much heat. The euphoria was already setting in, making it hard to care.
“Just gave you a little boost.” She shrugged unapologetically. “Now get out there and be the Emma everyone fears and
envies. Stop acting like some lovesick teenager.”
The cocktail worked faster than I expected. Soon I was drifting through the crowd, accepting compliments on “my home” with practiced grace, letting the bass guide my movements. A tall, broad-shouldered wolf with hungry eyes pulled me
against him, and I allowed myself to be enveloped in his scent—clean sweat and expensive cologne. Not Ethan’s scent,
but it would do. His hands wandered down my back, and I arched into him, desperate for any sensation to fill the
emptiness.
But even through the chemical haze, I couldn’t fully lose myself. My eyes kept darting to the entrance, hoping each new
arrival would be him. When the stranger’s lips brushed my neck, I disentangled myself with a breathless excuse and
staggered away, suddenly needing air.
The room tilted dangerously as I moved, colors too bright, sounds oddly distorted. Whatever Bella had slipped me was
definitely more than standard werewolf moonshine. My fingertips tingled with pins and needles, and giggles bubbled up
from my chest without warning.
I was reaching for another drink when the front door opened, admitting a slim woman in her early fifties. She stood in
stark contrast to the party around her—tailored pantsuit, silver-streaked hair pulled into an elegant twist, and wirerimmed glasses perched on her nose. Something about her regal posture and penetrating gaze instantly sobered me.
I plastered on my most gracious hostess smile and approached her, calling on years of pack etiquette training despite my
intoxication. “Welcome! Are you looking for someone?”
Golden eyes—distinctive, familiar somehow—flicked to me, widening fractionally. “I believe I am.”
“Well, I’m Emma,” I extended my hand, swaying slightly. “This is my home, so perhaps I can help?”
Something dangerous flickered in her expression. “Your home? Interesting. I was under the impression this property
belonged to someone else.”
“How terribly impolite of you.” I couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter that escaped my lips, the sound light and airy
like champagne fizz. Whatever Bella had slipped into my drink was making everything deliciously fuzzy around the edges,
colors more vibrant, sensations heightened. My lips stretched into a wide smile I couldn’t control. “This is an invitationonly event. If you don’t have your golden ticket, I’m afraid you’ll need to find the exit.”
The woman’s gaze locked onto mine—those golden eyes unnervingly familiar, though my mind was too clouded to place
them.
I tried to hold her gaze in a silent battle of wills, but the room suddenly tilted sideways. I swayed precariously on my
stiletto heels, my vision swimming for a moment as I fought to maintain my balance. My eyes fluttered around the room
involuntarily, trying to find an anchor point.
The woman made a sound—a little ‘tsk’ that seemed to hold a universe of disapproval—before sweeping her critical gaze
around the party scene again. “I’m looking for the owner of this residence.”
“Well, your search is over.” I flashed my most dazzling smile, the one that had graced magazine covers. A server drifted
past with a tray of electric blue cocktails, and I plucked one gracefully from his offerings. My fingers lingered on his wrist
a moment longer than necessary, appreciating the definition of his forearm. When our eyes met, his pupils dilated with
interest. I winked before turning back to the unwelcome visitor, taking a deliberate sip from my glass.
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“This stunning property belongs to me,” I continued, making a sweeping gesture that encompassed the infinity pool, the
designer furniture, the imported marble flooring. “A gift from my boyfriend—he has exquisite taste, doesn’t he? Ethan
believes I deserve nothing but the best.”
Something flickered in the woman’s expression. Her lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she snapped her
fingers, the sound sharp as a whip crack. “Now I understand completely.”
A chill ran down my spine despite the warmth of the alcohol in my veins. “What the fuck?”
“That you need to vacate these premises immediately. This house does not belong to you.” Her voice was soft yet carried
the authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed without question.
“Listen here, you self-righteous hag,” I hissed, fury burning through my intoxication. The cocktail sloshed dangerously in
my glass as I jabbed a finger toward her. “You have no right to judge me! I am the future Luna of Shadow Fang!”
The tension crackled between us like electricity, and I opened my mouth to continue to curse this old woman from
nowhere when the front door suddenly opened. A hush fell over the nearest partygoers as Ethan filled the doorway, his
powerful frame radiating barely contained fury. Leo and David flanked him like sentinels, their expressions equally grim.
“Ethan!” His name escaped my lips in a breathless cry of triumph. I surged toward him, propelled by desperate longing
and chemical courage. I launched myself at him with such force that he had to brace himself to catch me.
My fingers tangled in his dark hair as I pressed my mouth hungrily against his, tasting whiskey and mint on his lips. His
body went rigid beneath my touch, his mouth unyielding as stone. I traced the seam of his lips with my tongue, seeking
entrance, but he jerked his head sharply to the side. Undeterred, I trailed kisses along his jawline instead, inhaling the
intoxicating scent that haunted my dreams—cedar, leather, and something uniquely, irresistibly Ethan.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered against the warm skin of his neck, feeling his pulse hammering beneath my lips. “I
knew you’d come back to me.”