Chapter 1: The Scent of Betrayal

The firelight flickered across the grand hall of Caelum Manor, casting dancing shadows on walls adorned with ancestral portraits. Each painting seemed to watch with keen eyes, their gazes sharp and unforgiving. The air smelled of aged oak, polished to perfection, and the faintest hint of jasmine—a scent Selene Caelum had always associated with her mother, Astrid.

But tonight, the familiar fragrance was drowned by something darker, metallic. Blood.

Selene sat at the head of the long mahogany table, her fingers gripping the cool surface as a cold knot twisted in her stomach. She stared down at her reflection in the wine glass before her, her golden eyes rimmed with a faint, unnatural glow. She hadn't touched the drink. Not yet. Not until her father, Lucian, spoke the words she dreaded.

Her adoptive father cleared his throat, the sound echoing in the tense silence. He stood at the far end of the table, his face carved from stone, a man who rarely betrayed emotion. His deep-set eyes—a wolfish amber that matched Selene's—bore into her.

"Selene," he said, voice heavy with something she couldn't quite place. "You must be prepared."

The words felt like a knife sliding into her gut.

"For what?" she asked, her tone sharper than she intended.

Lucian's jaw tightened. "For Rowan. For what tomorrow brings."

Tomorrow. The mating ceremony. Her union with Rowan Vance, heir to the Vance Pack and the man destined to be her mate.

Selene glanced down at her hands, her fingers trembling slightly. Rowan was everything the packs admired—strong, confident, and a natural leader. His charm was magnetic, his smile disarming. Yet, something about him had always made her uneasy. He spoke with a voice that could soothe or command, but his eyes carried an edge, a hunger for something more than the world had to offer.

"I've done everything you asked," Selene said, her voice low. "I've trained, I've studied. I've played the part of the perfect heiress." She paused, forcing herself to look up at Lucian. "What more do you want from me?"

Astrid, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. Her voice was as smooth and cold as a winter breeze. "We want you to survive."

The words struck Selene like a slap. She blinked, her mind racing. Survive? What could that mean?

"Stop talking in riddles," she snapped, her temper flaring despite herself. "What aren't you telling me?"

Astrid's sharp gaze met hers, and for a moment, Selene thought she saw something almost human in her mother's eyes. Fear.

"You are the Caelum heir," Astrid said. "But there are those who would see you fall. Tomorrow is not just a ceremony—it's a test. And if you fail..." She trailed off, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"If I fail, what?"

Lucian cut in, his voice sterner now. "This family carries a legacy far older and more dangerous than you understand. Your bloodline—our bloodline—is both a blessing and a curse. Rowan knows this. He has plans, Selene. Be cautious."

Selene's heart sank. Plans? What kind of plans? She thought of Rowan's easy smiles, the way he would lean in close when he spoke to her, his fingers brushing against hers like a whisper of promises unspoken. Had it all been a lie?

"I don't understand," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lucian sighed and stepped closer, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to understand. Not yet. But when the time comes, trust your instincts. They've kept you alive so far."

Alive. The word carried a weight that pressed down on her chest. She wanted to ask what he meant, to demand answers, but a faint noise cut through the tension.

The sound of footsteps.

Selene turned her head toward the grand doors at the far end of the hall. They creaked open, and Rowan stepped inside. He was dressed in a dark suit, his broad shoulders cutting an imposing figure. His raven-black hair fell in soft waves around his sharp features, and his lips curled into a slow, confident smile as his eyes found her.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk.

"No," Astrid said quickly, rising to her feet. "We were just finishing."

Rowan's gaze flicked to Lucian, then back to Selene. "I wanted to steal my bride for a moment. A little pre-ceremony tradition, if you don't mind."

Lucian hesitated, his hand tightening on Selene's shoulder before he nodded. "Of course. Just remember, Rowan," he said, his tone colder now, "she is more valuable than you realize."

Selene didn't miss the flicker of irritation that crossed Rowan's face, but he masked it quickly, offering a charming smile. "I know exactly how valuable she is."

The words sent a shiver down her spine.

Rowan extended a hand toward her. "Shall we?"

Selene hesitated, her father's words ringing in her ears. Trust your instincts.

But what did they tell her now? To run? To fight? Or to play along?

Swallowing her unease, she rose from her seat and placed her hand in Rowan's. His grip was firm, almost possessive, as he led her out of the hall.

The corridors of Caelum Manor were quiet, the only sound their footsteps echoing against the stone floors. Rowan walked beside her, his expression unreadable.

"You seem tense," he said after a moment, glancing at her.

"I have a lot on my mind," she replied carefully.

He chuckled softly. "That's understandable. Tomorrow is a big day."

Selene forced a smile, though it felt hollow. "It is."

They reached the garden, the moonlight casting a silver glow over the neatly trimmed hedges and blooming flowers. Rowan stopped, turning to face her.

"Selene," he said, his voice softer now. "Do you trust me?"

The question caught her off guard. Did she? Could she?

"I..." She hesitated, searching his eyes for any sign of deception.

Rowan's smile widened, but there was something predatory in the way he looked at her, like a wolf circling its prey. "You don't have to answer that," he said, his tone teasing. "I know it's a lot to ask. Trust is earned, after all."

He stepped closer, his hand brushing against her cheek. "But I want you to know, everything I do tomorrow... it's for us. For our future."

Selene's breath caught. His words sounded sincere, but there was an edge to them, a hidden meaning she couldn't quite grasp.

"Of course," she murmured, though her chest felt tight.

Rowan leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "I'll see you tomorrow, my love."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her alone in the moonlit garden.

Selene stood there, the cool night air prickling her skin. Her mind raced with questions, doubts, fears. Something was wrong—she could feel it in her bones.

But what?

As she stared up at the moon, its light bathing her in an ethereal glow, a single thought echoed in her mind.

Tomorrow would change everything.