Chapter 1

The screech of metal on Interstate 95 was the requiem for my old life.

When I opened my eyes in this new one, I was standing in the middle of the grand ballroom at the Plaza Hotel in Luxoria.

The crystal chandeliers were blinding. Hell was never supposed to be this dazzling.

And then I saw him. Kyle Carlyle. My moon-bound mate. The man I died for in the previous timeline.

He was dressed in a custom Brioni suit, his steely gray-blue gaze full of impatience. A pack of Alpha wolves from Cleshire's finance world surrounded him, their whiskey glasses glinting with insincere shine.

"Claire Winston?" Kyle's voice cut through the noise of the music. "She's just a fool driven by hormones. No matter what I do, her damn wolf instincts will always make her crawl back."

Their laughter was like blades.

My inner wolf woke up in that instant. Not with a broken heart, but with pure, cold rage. The Alphas of Luxoria always forgot that the women of the Winston family had teeth sharper than diamonds.

*****

Drake Winston, my brother, the reigning Alpha of the Winston pack, caught on instantly. He set down his glass, his eyes starting to turn gold. "Claire?"

I didn't answer. My eyes zeroed in on the girl next to Kyle.

It was Anna Miller. She wore a floral Reformation dress and was scented with cheap Victoria's Secret perfume.

She pressed herself against Kyle, fingers twined around his arm, flashing a smug "I won" smile.

In the previous timeline, it was that smile that made me slam the gas pedal on a stormy night.

Faye Carlyle, Kyle's mother, walked over, holding that antique silver bracelet, the mark of the next Luna for the New Moon pack.

"Claire will obviously pick Kyle," she said, her smile soft and flawless, but her voice rang out across the ballroom. "They grew up together at Vaburg summer camp. No other pack can match that kind of childhood bond..."

"Mrs. Carlyle." My voice sliced through her words. Steady. Sharp. Like the first fracture in glass.

The room went dead silent.

I turned to face Kyle, my heels clicking on the marble. Those heels he gave me were half a size too big. Just like us, never really fit.

"I think you're mistaken, Mrs. Carlyle," I said.

I lifted my hand, not to take the bracelet, but to stop her cold.

"Kyle and I are nothing more than a political alliance," I said to everyone.

I let the silence linger, letting my words ripple through the dead air.

I added, my voice edged with a razor-sharp smile, "As of tonight, we're not even allies anymore."

Faye's smile froze on her face.

Kyle's expression shifted from arrogance to shock, then to pure rage.

He started, "Claire, what the hell are you saying..."

I cut him off, each word sharp as a poisoned dagger, "I reject the moon-bound. I'm requesting the Elders to break it for good. The disgust you have for me? I'm returning it to you, untouched."

I turned my back on him.

In wolf circles, nothing was more humiliating than showing your back to someone you completely loathed.

Just then, applause rang out. Crisp, slow, and bold.

Everyone looked up at the second-floor terrace.

A man lounged against the railing, bourbon in hand, his smoldering gaze flashing with predatory intent from the shadows.

It was Finn Hunter.

Alpha heir to the biggest wolf pack out West, and the Hunter family and the Carlyle family were bitter rivals. He had no business being here tonight.

"Impressive," Finn said, his voice quiet but slicing through the whispers. "Luxoria hasn't had drama like this in ages."

He descended the stairs, and the crowd parted for him.

His scent, bourbon, desert storms, and sun-baked earth hit the room like a heatwave.

It was so overpowering that the Omegas gasped in awe, while the Alphas went rigid on instinct.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up.

A surge of heat shot up from the base of my spine, my wolf growling beneath my skin. My knees went weak, not out of frailty, but pure instinct.

The scent of a prime Alpha hit me like the fiercest tequila, flooding straight into my veins.

But I refused to give in.

I bit down on my tongue, the metallic tang of blood jolting me back to reality. My nails dug into my palms. I used the pain to fight my instinct.

Finn stopped right in front of me, towering over me by a head.

"Claire Winston," he drawled, savoring my name like aged bourbon. "You're way more interesting than the rumors."

He was way too close. Close enough for me to catch a third scent on him, the wild, unrestrained aura of a predator.

My inner wolf wanted to answer, to let her own scent spill out and intertwine with his.