Ethan's POV
The curse had been with me for as long as I could remember—twisting its claws into my fate before I even understood what fate meant. My father never told me much, only that I'd been "marked" as a child, bound by something old and cruel. I didn't understand it at first… not until I was old enough to notice what happened to the few wolves I'd been foolish enough to mate with.
They died. Every time.
At first, I thought it was coincidence—freak accidents, sicknesses that made no sense—but after the third death, the truth was impossible to ignore. The curse made it so I could never mate a wolf without destroying them. I'd been forced to keep my distance, to cut ties, to leave the pack years ago. The only way to keep things right was to stay far away.
And then there was Lila.
The only one I ever loved deeply.
The one I had to walk away from.
Leaving her had been the hardest thing I'd ever done. No goodbye, no explanation—just silence. Because loving her would have meant killing her. That was the cruelty of it.
Now, years later, my father wanted me home again. The Silverfang Pack's heir. The title meant power, duty… and a mate.
Only this time, there was no choice. He had made it clear: bring a mate, even if she's a human, to bond with by the next full moon, or lose the right to the throne. It was meant to secure my future, to prove my worth. What he didn't say—what I didn't yet know—was that his plan had darker edges than I imagined.
So I chose Soraya.
It could have been Bianca. She was already in my bed often enough, but she meant nothing. I couldn't bond with her even if she were human; the thought of binding myself to her was laughable. She was just… there. A body. A distraction I'd already outgrown.
But Soraya… she was different. Human. Safe from my curse. The perfect answer to my father's demand. She wasn't Lila—no one ever would be—but at least with her, I felt a spark of hope and I sense a connection that went beyond duty.
The only problem was telling her. I believed she would agree—after all, what woman wouldn't leap at the chance to be with me? But how she would feel when she discovered the truth—that I was a werewolf, and her life would never be the same—was another matter. That was a weight I wasn't ready to place on her shoulders. Not yet.
For now, she would remain in the dark.
And today, with my father's convoy waiting, my family expecting me at dinner, and the deadline of the full moon ticking closer with every breath, Soraya wasn't just a distraction. She was my choice. My gamble. My only chance at survival.
I was already sick of waiting. The sprinter's quiet hum only made the seconds stretch longer. My fingers drummed against the armrest, my gaze locked on the mall entrance. How long could it possibly take to grab a handbag? She was taking her sweet time, and I hated that it was getting under my skin.
Finally, Soraya stepped out. Sunlight caught on her hair, but it wasn't her beauty that I noticed first—it was the tension in her shoulders, the stiffness in her stride. Yeah… she knew. Someone must have told her she was my new PA. Most people in the company would sell their soul for that opportunity. But Soraya looked like she'd just been handed a death sentence.
Not my problem. I didn't owe her an explanation. And I definitely didn't care.
…At least, that's what I told myself.
As she reached the sprinter, I tapped the door control, and the automatic panel slid open with a whisper. She walked toward me, and I kept my expression sharp.
"About time you came out," I said, pretending to be annoyed.
"I'm sorry sir," she murmured, stepping inside and slipping into the seat opposite me.
I didn't answer, just leaned back in my seat, signaling the driver to move. The door slid shut, and we glided smoothly into the city traffic.
She sat quietly, looking down, but I could sense her tension. She probably thought I promoted her to control her, and maybe that was part of it. But there was more to why I chose her. I tried to focus on my phone, but my eyes kept wandering back to her face. Her beauty was the kind that wasn't trying to be noticed—it was real, unpolished, the type that caught you off guard. I'd noticed her a while ago, long before today.
As I looked at her, I couldn't help but feel drawn to the quiet strength she radiated. She was just a human, but there was something about her that felt extraordinary. A spark in her eyes, a depth to her presence that I'd noticed from afar, but now, up close, it was even more captivating. I found myself wondering what it was about her that resonated with me so deeply.
The sprinter slid to a smooth stop before the boutique, its doors opening with a soft hiss. I stepped down with Soraya at my side, my hand hovering just close enough to guide her but never touching. She kept her gaze low, her simple dress almost shrinking against the grandeur of the entrance.
The attendants approached immediately, their bows subtle. They didn't have to ask why I was there—I silenced the question before it left their lips..
"See to her," I ordered.
They moved to her at once. Soraya glanced up at me, hesitation flickering in her eyes, but she didn't argue. She followed them quietly, disappearing into the fitting rooms.
I remained standing until she was out of sight, then allowed myself to sink into the leather sofa in the executive lounge. From where I sat, I could see glimpses of fabric being carried in and out, flashes of color being measured against her. The anticipation burned more than I expected.
And then she stepped out.
The dress was midnight blue, draped and cut to perfection, catching the light like water. Her hair had been gently styled back, exposing the curve of her neck. For an instant, I didn't recognize her—she wasn't the girl who had stood awkwardly in the shadows of my world. She was radiant, commanding the room without even knowing it.
Something inside me shifted sharply and dangerously.
She froze under my gaze, biting her lip. "Does it… look right?" she asked softly, her voice uncertain, almost apologetic.
I rose, my steps unhurried, my eyes never leaving her. When I stopped before her, the attendants seemed to vanish from my awareness. My hand lifted—not to touch her this time, but to straighten the chain of the delicate pendant they'd placed on her neck.
"You'll wear this," I said, my tone firm. "And no, don't question it. You belong by my side so trust me."
Her breath trembled, and she lowered her gaze, submitting without protest.
But as I stepped back, I cursed inwardly. Because for the first time in years, the thought of a girl belonging to me now hadn't felt like power. It had felt like truth—and that truth terrified me.
By the time we returned to the sprinter, Soraya was silent, her hands folded carefully in her lap. I leaned back against the seat, masking the storm inside me. Every glimpse of her in that dress was a test of my control.
I'd promised myself she was only a distraction.
But one look at her in that dress, and I already knew I was lying.