Chapter 85
So the mysterious Elysia Ravencroft was finally stepping into the spotlight. The woman who’d been strategically sabotaging my business deals for months was suddenly ready to show her face. Interesting.
“You should go,” my father said, breaking the silence. “It’s an opportunity to assess your competition.”
‘I’ll think about it.” I rose from my seat, not wanting to discuss this in front of Selene. Her eyes had lit up at the mention of a party, already calculating what she’d wear, who she’d impress.
Back in my office, I stood at the window, watching the city lights flicker to life as dusk settled. This invitation was a move in a game I hadn’t realized we were playing. My instincts told me there was more to this than a simple social gathering.
A week of digging yielded almost nothing about this “lost princess.” No photos, no interviews, just corporate press releases announcing her return and appointment as CEO. She was a ghost who’d somehow materialized to haunt my business deals.
“This party is also a chance to see her again…” my wolf whispered, clearly talking about Lysandra.
“Shut up. I’m going to meet this Ravencroft woman, to figure out why she’s targeting my projects, I snapped back, though some buried corner of my mind stirred at the possibility of seeing Lysandra again.
“You sure it’s just for business reasons?” my wolf challenged.
I adjusted my cufflinks, refusing to continue this line of thought, “Elysia Ravencroft will pay for stealing my projects, regardless of what ‘lost princess‘ title she’s claiming.”
My mother suggested I bring Selene to the party. “It’s expected,” she said, not quite meeting my eyes. “As Alpha, you should have a companion.” I agreed, though the thought brought no pleasure. Just another social expectation to fulfill.
******
Outside Selene’s villa, I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel, checking my watch for the reached for my phone to call her, the front door opened.
d time. Just as I
Selene stood framed in the doorway, moonlight catching in her golden hair. She’d chosen a floor–length red gown with an off–the–shoulder neckline that emphasized her slender frame.
“How do I look today?” She twirled slowly, letting the silk swish around her ankles.
I gave her appearance a cursory glance. The dress showcased her smooth arms, drawing attention to the scar she always
made sure remained visible.
“Fine,” I said flatly.
My single word made her beam with delight. She smiled seductively, leaning closer as she slid into the passenger seat.
“I have to look good. After all, I am the future Luna of Alpha Tristan.”
I didn’t bother responding, just shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb.
The scent of Moonshade territory hit me the moment we crossed the boundary markers–pine and winter berries, distinctly different from Silverblood’s oak and cinnamon. My wolf tensed, instinctively alert in foreign territory,
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“Tristan, I need to freshen up before the party,” Selene announced, checking her reflection in a compact mirror. “I want to look perfect for such an important occasion. You understand–I need to make you look good.”
I signaled to my driver. “Take her to the Crescent Hotel at the border. Get her a room if necessary.”
My Beta, Varian, raised an eyebrow as we continued toward the yacht alone, but wisely kept his thoughts to himself.
The marina came into view, a collection of gleaming vessels bobbing on ink–black water. The parking area was filled with luxury cars bearing Alpha marks–Bentleys, Maseratis, even a few custom Rolls Royces. Each represented another pack leader, another potential rival.
Or another suitor for the mysterious Ravencroft princess.
The thought irritated me more than it should have. These Alphas weren’t here for business alliances–they were here to assess a potential mate, a woman with both power and rare abilities if the rumors were true.
“Alpha, shall we?” Varian gestured toward the largest yacht, its deck already crowded with elegantly dressed werewolves.
Just like that, he slipped back into his formal Beta role.
Stepping onto the yacht’s polished deck, I felt dozens of eyes swivel in my direction. Conversations faltered mid–sentence. A ripple of tension spread through the crowd as pack rankings were instinctively recalculated to account for the Silverblood Alpha’s arrival.
A Delta–level official rushed forward, bowing slightly. “Alpha Tristan! Welcome to our celebration.”
“Alpha Tristan has arrived!” someone announced, the words carrying across the deck.
Another official approached, offering a crystal glass of amber liquid. “Alpha Tristan, we’re delighted to see you here. Please enjoy the party. Alpha Alaric will join shortly.”
I accepted the drink with a nod, scanning the crowd for Caspian Ravencroft. I’d never met the fo. Alpha, but courtesy demanded I congratulate him on his daughter’s return. Interesting how she’d appeared just when their pack needed a boost against competition.
Suddenly, my wolf howled within me, so violently I nearly spilled my drink. My skin prickled with awareness, heart rate accelerating for no apparent reason.
Then I saw her.
A woman in a backless purple gown stood near the railing, her chestnut hair swept into an elegant updo that exposed the graceful curve of her neck. Even from behind, something about her commanded my attention, drawing my gaze like a physical force.
“Lysandra,” Varian muttered beside me, following my line of sight.
She turned, as if sensing my attention, and the world seemed to slow. She looked breathtaking, as if no other woman could possibly compare. Her full lips and porcelain skin gave life to the royal purple of her dress in a way that made my mouth go dry.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Just looking at her made my heart pound against my ribs like a trapped animal.
No matter how much anger I harbored, I was completely captivated by her beauty, which seemed to have blossomed even
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more in these months apart.
She was talking with two Alphas from the Western territories, her posture polite but distant. They leaned toward her, eager to capture her attention, but she maintained a careful space between them.
Near her stood a tall, amber–haired man whose hand occasionally brushed her lower back with casual intimacy. Kieran Nightcrest. My jaw clenched involuntarily.
“She’s here too!” Varian said, his gaze lingering on Lysandra.
Of course. Beta Kieran, how could I forget? Lysandra is his fiancée. That’s why she’s here.
“Beta Kieran,” I mentally cursed.
My wolf snarled at the sight of another man touching what was once ours, the possessiveness so strong I had to consciously control my breathing to prevent my eyes from bleeding red.
I watched as Kieran leaned close to whisper something in her ear, his fingers brushing against hers. She smiled–and something cold and sharp twisted in my chest.
“Tristan!” Selene’s shrill voice cut through the ambient noise of the party.
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