Chapter 2
Three days later, I found myself at the Vanderbilt Club, even though I'd rather have been anywhere else.
Mom was right, hiding would only make me look weak.
I'd gone with a simple black slip dress and the delicate diamond necklace Julian gave me years ago. Liam used to sneer and call it cheap, but in my last life, it was the one thing I clung to, the single memory that kept me sane through all those electric shocks.
Liam still commanded the room, arm draped around Sophia while he made sure every wolf in the place heard him loud and clear. "A real wolf steps up and takes what he wants! Sophia and I have already bound ourselves; she's my mate now, and the next matriarch of the Blackwood Clan."
Sophia pressed close against him, the fresh bite mark on her neck glowing under the lights like a trophy. She kept spinning the sapphire ring, the Foster family heirloom that should have been mine, so the moon rune inside caught every eye.
"Liam stood up to the whole pack for me," she purred, voice dripping honey. "He's my everything now."
Their little crowd laughed and piled on the praise, but every few seconds they kept stealing glances my way.
I sipped my club soda and tried to stay invisible. Then a sharp sting sliced through the White Wolf Oracle mark on my temple, a prickling warning that told me someone was watching me.
Sophia spotted me right away. Her eyes narrowed for a split second, then she slapped on a phony look of concern.
"Liam," she said softly, fingers tightening on his arm. "Elena's over there. Think she's still hung up on you?"
Liam swung his gaze to me, his Alpha dominance rolling across the room like a wave. "Still clinging, Elena? You look pathetic."
"Showing up at a party I was invited to counts as clinging now?" I answered coolly, meeting his stare. "Or did the Vanderbilt Club suddenly turn into Blackwood property?"
Sophia grabbed a glass of deep red wine and held it out to me with a sugary smile. "If it's really just a coincidence, then drink this as a blessing. Go on, prove it to us, and maybe we'll believe you."
The wine looked off under the lights, shimmering with an unnatural sheen.
A sharp pain stabbed through my White Wolf Oracle mark, a warning. Something was in that glass, something dark and thick like swamp sludge.
"I'm allergic to certain grapes," she added, her eyes hungry and venomous.
She wanted to drain my power. It was a witch's brew meant to steal my wolf's strength and force some twisted, unnatural bond.
I reached out to take the glass.
But with a quick flick of her wrist, she sent the wine flying.
The deep red liquid splattered across the front of her expensive dress, soaking in fast. Angry red welts raced up her bare skin like poison ivy.
She clutched her chest and shrieked, but those rashes were real. The backlash from her own spell had hit her hard.
"Elena!" Liam roared, his Alpha dominance slamming down like a mountain. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
"I didn't even touch it," I protested.
"Shut up!" he snarled. He scooped Sophia into his arms, eyes blazing with fury. "Kyle!"
His cousin Kyle Blackwood, a Beta wolf, strolled over with that same sleazy grin.
"Hold her down," Liam ordered, his stare fixed on the champagne tower. Every word came out sharp as a blade. "She likes spilling drinks? Then let her drink her fill."
Four hands slammed me backward onto the couch. Kyle's Beta energy pressed in thick and suffocating as he gripped my chin and forced my mouth open.
Ice-cold champagne flooded in.
One glass. Two. Three. The bubbles scorched my throat, and the alcohol slammed into me like a freight train. My wolf thrashed hard, fighting to break free, but the weight of all those Alphas kept her pinned.
Twenty glasses. My stomach knotted in agony.
Thirty glasses. My vision started to blur. All I could make out was Liam's icy profile and Sophia's smug grin, her eyes locked on my neck like she was already sizing me up for dinner.
As the fortieth glass got forced down my throat, a commotion broke out at the entrance.
A voice cut through the noise, quiet, but cold and razor-sharp.
"Get your filthy hands off her."
Everyone spun around.
Julian Thorne stood in the doorway.
He'd come back ahead of schedule.