Chapter 1
The nurse set a bloodstained diamond ring on the bedside table. "Mrs. Blackwood, you're finally awake.
"Mr. Blackwood said to hold the wedding immediately once you wake up."
I glanced at the ring that marked me as the Luna of the Blackwood Clan and let out a soft laugh.
If it weren't for that decade-long prophetic dream, I'd probably be thrilled to wear it.
In my dream, Lucas showed up on our wedding day with his pregnant mistress.
He locked me up in the attic like a stray until I starved to death.
And my corneas ended up in his mistress's eyes.
I avoided the nurse's gaze, grabbed my phone, and keyed in an encrypted line. "Evan, I accepted your previous offer.
"I want a death certificate in thirty minutes."
Silence stretched on the line for a beat.
Then Evan Blackwood spoke, his voice low and laced with a restrained satisfaction. "You've finally come around."
"It's not about coming around." I dropped my voice, my gaze flicking to the firmly shut door. "It's about survival."
The moment I ended the call, the measured click of leather shoes echoed down the corridor.
Each step was steady and powerful, as if every footfall landed right on my heart.
The door swung open.
Lucas Blackwood stood framed by the light, his tall silhouette nearly filling the entire doorway.
Lucas was the Blackwood Clan's Alpha heir, the strongest bloodline the Frostmark Pack had seen in a century. Every woman in Silvermoon City dreamed of being marked by him.
Right now, he was holding a bouquet of white roses, his smile gentle and impossible to resist.
He said, "Elena."
He sat down on the edge of the bed, his long fingers brushing the stray hair from my forehead. "You scared me."
His gray-blue eyes locked onto me, as if I were the only thing that mattered in his life.
Once, that look made me lose myself completely.
But every scene from that decade-long dream kept searing in my mind: the moldy bread in the attic, the sound of chains grinding against my wrists, and the last thing I saw before the darkness took me.
He had stood at the doorway, saying to that woman, "Monica, these eyes suit you better."
A wave of nausea churned in my stomach, but I smiled.
I reached out and took his fingers in mine. "Lucas, I had a really long dream.
"I dreamed our wedding was beautiful."
He leaned down and kissed my fingertips, his lips cool. "It'll be more beautiful than your dream."
Outside the ward door, a slender figure flashed past.
The scent of jasmine crept in through the door crack, thick enough to choke me.
That was Monica Hayes's signature fragrance.
I knew it well. In my dream, Monica had used that very scent to possess my husband for ten full years.
Lucas's nostrils flared, barely perceptible.
The hand holding mine tightened for a fraction of a second, then released as quickly.
I looked up. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Lucas rose, setting the white roses on the nightstand to cover the bloodstained diamond ring. "Rest well. I'll handle the wedding."
The instant the door clicked shut, his footsteps abruptly quickened, chasing the fading trail of jasmine.
My phone buzzed.
Evan sent me an encrypted message: [Death certificate is ready. But there's a catch. Come to the old chapel at Frostmark before moonrise tonight.]
For thirty years, that old chapel had been the Blackwood Clan's abandoned ritual grounds.
Rumor had it the blood pact scroll of the first Alpha was sealed away there, and no one could step inside unless the Council gave their blessing.
And yet, Evan picked this exact place.
Evan was the youngest son of the Blackwood Clan, two years younger than Lucas, officially recorded as a Beta.
But one detail from my dream kept haunting me.
After Lucas locked me in the attic, nobody in the Blackwood Clan checked on me, except for Evan.
He would slip a morsel of food through the vent every three days, until Lucas found out and broke two of his ribs.
After that, the vent was welded shut.
Memories crashed over me like a blast of icy water.
When the nurse came in to take my temperature, I was already dressed.
The nurse said, "Mrs. Blackwood, your wounds aren't healed yet—"
"Call me a car." I cut her off, my voice calm.
The nurse hesitated for a moment, then pulled a business card from her pocket. "Mr. Blackwood said if you need to go anywhere, please contact his private driver."
I recognized the number on the card.
In my dream, it was this driver who hauled me straight from the wedding to the attic.
I tore the card in half and tossed it into the trash. "No need. I'll walk."
As I walked out of the hospital, the sun was sinking below the skyline of Silvermoon City.
The air was thick with the scent of pine and frozen earth, and the wind cut across my face.