The dressing room smelled like hairspray and expensive anxiety. Astra sat in a velvet chair, her hands clenched so tight in her lap that her knuckles looked like polished bone.
"Stop fidgeting," Seraphina hissed.
The platinum-haired she-wolf was standing behind her, adjusting the collar of Astra's new dress. It was a structured, cream-colored silk that made Astra look like a marble statue, elegant, cold, and entirely fake. Seraphina's fingers nipped at Astra's skin, her touch as sharp as a needle.
"You look like a doll, but you smell like the gutter," Seraphina whispered, her voice dropping so low the human stylists couldn't hear. "Don't think for a second that the crescent on your palm makes you an Alpha's equal. Dante is playing a game of PR. Once the public is satisfied, he'll find a way to scrub that mark off your skin. I'll make sure of it."
Astra met Seraphina's gaze in the mirror. For the first time, she didn't look away. The heat from her newly awakened wolf was humming under her skin, a low-frequency vibration that made her feel... dangerous.
"If I'm just a doll, Seraphina, then why are your hands shaking?" Astra asked, her voice steady.
Seraphina recoiled as if she'd been slapped. Her blue eyes flared with a flash of silver, the sign of an Alpha's temper. "Enjoy your five minutes of fame, scavenger. The cameras are waiting. And the press? They're sharks. They'll smell the slum on you before you even open your mouth."
The door swung open, and Dante stepped in.
The air in the small room seemed to instantly compress. He was in a charcoal-gray suit, looking every bit the billionaire titan, but his eyes were fixed on Astra. He didn't look at the dress or the jewelry; he looked at her throat, watching the frantic pulse jumping under her skin.
"It's time," he said.
He walked over and placed a hand on Astra's shoulder. The weight of it was grounding, but it was also a warning. Don't fail me.
They walked out into the hallway, the sound of their shoes echoing against the sterile white walls. At the end of the hall was a set of double doors. Beyond them, the low roar of a hundred journalists sounded like a pack of hungry wolves waiting for a kill.
"Listen to me," Dante murmured, leaning down so his lips were inches from her ear. The scent of him, woodsmoke and cold rain, wrapped around her like a blanket. "They're going to ask about your background. They're going to ask where you've been hiding. Tell them you were 'protected' by the Sterling family since the fire. Do not mention the janitor's closet. Do not mention the Grey Zone."
"You want me to lie to the whole city," Astra whispered.
"I want you to survive the whole city," Dante corrected. He grabbed her hand, his fingers interlaced with hers. His thumb pressed against the silver moon on her palm, and a jolt of heat surged through her, silencing her nerves. "Ready?"
"No," Astra said.
"Good. It'll make you look more authentic."
The doors opened.
The flashbulbs were blinding, a jagged, white lightning that made Astra's vision swim. She felt Dante's arm slide around her waist, pulling her flush against his side. To the cameras, it looked like a romantic embrace. To Astra, it was a tether keeping her from bolting.
They sat behind a long mahogany table. In the front row, Seraphina sat with the Pack Council, her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed like a hawk's.
"Mr. Sterling!" a woman from the front row shouted, her voice cutting through the noise. "Rumors are flying that this girl isn't just an aide. The sensors in the ballroom last night picked up a Lunar frequency. Are you claiming that this... 'Astra' is a High Omega?"
Dante leaned into the microphone, his expression a mask of cool, billionaire boredom. "I don't deal in rumors, Diane. I deal in bloodlines. Astra is the last of the Lunar line. She has been under my personal guardianship for years. Last night was simply her formal introduction to the pack."
A man stood up in the back. He had the scent of a Beta, sharp and aggressive. "Then why is there no record of her? No school transcripts? No medical history? It sounds like you found a stray and painted a moon on her hand to satisfy the Council's requirement for a mate."
The room went deathly silent. Astra felt the air in the room start to vibrate. Dante's grip on her waist tightened, his muscles coiling. He was seconds away from shifting, right there on live television.
Astra felt a surge of protectiveness she didn't expect. If Dante lost his temper now, the Council would use it as an excuse to deem him "unstable" and take her away.
She leaned forward, her fingers brushing the microphone.
"I wasn't in the records because I was dead," Astra said. Her voice was quiet, but it carried to the back of the room.
The journalists leaned in. Dante turned his head, his amber eyes wide with surprise.
"My parents were killed in the Great Slum Fire," Astra continued, her voice growing stronger as she spoke. She wasn't lying now, not entirely. She was using the truth as a shield. "I spent ten years in the shadows because a wolf with my blood is a target. I've seen what happens to 'special' omegas. They become trophies. They become property. Mr. Sterling didn't 'find' me. He saved me from people like you, people who only see a bloodline instead of a person."
She looked directly at the man who had called her a stray. "You want my medical history? My history is written in the scars on my back from the fire. You want my transcripts? I learned to survive on the streets while you were sitting in your air-conditioned offices. I am a Sterling now. And I suggest you remember that before you question my Alpha again."
The silence that followed was heavy. Then, slowly, the journalists began to whisper. The tide was turning.
Dante didn't say anything for a long moment. He just looked at Astra, a strange, dark look in his eyes, a mixture of respect and something that looked dangerously like genuine desire.
"Any other questions?" Dante asked, his voice a low, lethal purr.
No one spoke.
"We're done here," Dante said. He stood up, pulling Astra with him.
They walked off the stage and into the sanctuary of the backstage hallway. As soon as the doors closed, Astra slumped against the wall, her lungs burning as she finally let out the breath she'd been holding.
"You went off script," Dante said. He was standing in front of her, his shadow looming over her in the dim light.
"You were going to kill that man," Astra panted, looking up at him. "I could smell the shift on you, Dante. You would have ruined everything."
Dante stepped closer, pinning her against the wall with his body. He didn't touch her with his hands, but his presence was overwhelming. He smelled like ozone and heat, the scent of an Alpha who was losing his grip on his human mask.
"You defended me," he whispered.
"I defended my brother's medical bills," Astra shot back, though her heart was drumming a frantic, traitorous rhythm against her ribs.
Dante reached out, his hand cupping the side of her neck. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, his touch searingly hot. "You're a liar, Astra. Your mouth says one thing, but your scent? Your scent is singing. You liked being my Queen."
He leaned in, his lips a breath away from hers. "And God help me, I liked watching you do it."
Before she could respond, the door at the end of the hall burst open. One of Dante's security Omegas ran in, his face pale.
"Sir! It's the medical wing. There's been a breach. Someone took the boy."
Astra's world stopped. "Leo?"
"They bypassed the biometric locks," the guard gasped. "They left a note on the empty bed. It's for you, sir."
Dante snatched the paper from the guard's hand. Astra watched his face turn from heated desire to cold, murderous ice.
"What does it say?" Astra screamed, grabbing his arm.
Dante looked down at her, his eyes glowing a solid, terrifying gold.
"The Council," he said, his voice a guttural growl. "They've taken him to the Old Cathedral. They want a Trial of Purity. If you don't show up by midnight to prove your wolf is 'clean', they're going to execute the 'abomination' that shares your blood."
Astra felt her knees give way, but Dante caught her.
"Get the car," Dante roared at the guard. "And get my guns. We're going to war."