Chapter 0001

Celia's POV

The Alpha King has returned to the pack, and as his secret lover, I am immediately taken to his home.

Young she-wolves usually dress in their finest, letting their scent flow freely when meeting someone they love — but after a brief hesitation, I still slip into a white dress I don’t even like and spray on some perfume.

Just because Soren likes it on me.

I get into the car heading to Soren’s villa. His Beta drives in silence. No one sees me as I get in —

Because I am nothing more than his lowly, hidden mistress.

*

Five years ago, I was 18, my parents die in a car accident, and my grandmother falls dangerously ill. Money is unbearably tight, and medical loans are so crushingly expensive that they nearly break me.

I want to save her, but at that time, as a student drowning in debt, I have no way out.

Trapped in hell and on the verge of a mental breakdown, on a rainy day, I finally hesitate before stepping into the red-light district — to sell myself.

That’s where I met my Soren.

The heavy rain nearly drenched me, but my shame almost destroyed me. I didn’t dare speak to any man.

It was then that the young alpha king saw me. He handed me an umbrella.

I can never forget the way he looked at me that day—those deep, unforgettable black eyes.

Summoning my courage, I whispered and begged him, “…One million. Will you buy me?”

His black eyes nearly burned me.

Silence hangs heavily in the air for a long time before I finally hear his answer.

“…As you wish.”

He said under the rain.

*

We are nothing but a transaction. And the rest is history.

There should be no love between us. I know I shouldn’t—I know it’s pathetic, it’s shameful. But still, I fell for him — the man who saved me.

That was forbidden. So I must remain silent.

The car radio plays today’s latest news. The Beta turned down the volume, but I still heard it.

“…Ten years! After a decade, the werewolves and Lycans finally resume diplomatic relations!"

“Breaking news—Lycan has expressed interest in forming a marriage alliance with our Alpha King, Soren. His intended bride, Miss Bianca, the daughter of Lycan’s Delta, will arrive at the Werewolf Pack in just a few days…”

“We all know that the best match for a king is undoubtedly a princess—but the Lycan royal princess went missing 18 years ago. Fortunately, I’ve heard that Miss Bianca is undeniably a beauty…”

The Beta turns off the car and the news station on the radio goes silent.

I get out of the car, letting the scent of my perfume fully sink into my skin, and enter Soren’s home.

The news lingers in my mind.

As the one closest to the king, I know the truth.

More than just beauty, Bianca has something even more precious—she was Soren’s first love. High in status and pure in bloodline, she is on her way to marry him...

And even if she isn’t his bride in the end, it will be another noble lady—or perhaps even the long-lost, mysterious princess.

And me? A lowly, rankless secret lover, even a wolfless. Just an ordinary student, nothing special at all.

…It’s time for me to leave.

I step into Soren’s bedroom, a plate of freshly baked homemade cookies in my hands, placing them gently on the side table. They’re his favorite.

I sit on the bed, my gaze landing on a small gift box nearby. A ribbon is tied around it, a tag attached. I reach out, my fingers brushing against the smooth surface, and then I see it — my name.

Is it for me?...

Could there be even the slightest chance that he loves me, too?

The sound of running water ceases. A moment later, steam drifts from the bathroom as Soren pushes open the door.

He steps out, a towel wrapped loosely around his dewy body, another draped over his damp hair. His striking features steal my breath, sending my heart into a stuttering rhythm. My cheeks flush warm.

"...You weared my gift. Good girl."

His gaze drops to my white dress, and my cheeks flush warm.

Soren moves closer, his hands finding the delicate straps of my dress. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushes them aside, and the fabric loosens around my shoulders.

“King Soren,” I breathe, my heart fluttering. “About the lover contract… If you wish to end it—”

A sudden rude kiss cut me off.

The towel slips from my fingers as his hands cup my cheeks, his lips crashing into mine.

His kiss is intoxicating. His touch, dizzying.

“Shh…” he murmurs against my lips. “Turn around. Let turn off the light.”

That night, my body aches from our fiery passion. Whenever I wear a white dress and put on perfume, he’s always this passionate. It feels as if we are ascending to heaven together.

The next morning, I wake to an empty bed beside me. Tears slip down my cheeks, yet shamefully, my heart feels a trace of happiness.

I open the gift box and see what’s inside. A breakup agreement. It’s written clearly — our relationship officially ends today, and I will receive the one million as payment.

I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to tell Soren my true feelings. Just once!... I need to say it!...

“...Bianca?”

As my hand touches the bedroom door, I hear Soren’s muffled voice.

He seems to be on a call in the hallway. His tone is lighter than usual, almost soft — a tone he never uses with me. And from the phone’s speaker, I hear the faint sound of a woman’s chuckle.

“Bianca,” he smiles, "Don't joke. You know who I love."

“…But I heard you’ve been spoiling your secret lover with plenty of gifts.” Her voice is smooth and sultry, dripping with flirtation.

“You’ve been sleeping with her for five years… You wouldn’t have caught feelings for her, would you?”

My hand freezes on the door handle.

“…Gifts? No,” he chuckles into the phone.

That is a smile he had never shown me before. Then, ruthless words spill from his lips — the very lips that kissed me last night.

“Every gift — was just to make her look more like you.”

“Her scent is like yours. Her silhouette resembles yours.”

I sharply inhale and cover my mouth with my hand. A dull ache forms inside my chest, an invisible wire tightening around my throat, making it feel raw.

The bedroom door opens.

I see Soren standing by the hallway window, the morning light casting a glow on his dark hair and sharp features, making him look even more handsome.

A faint smile still lingers on his lips. He turns his head toward me, his eyes acknowledging my presence—yet he doesn’t care at all. No guilt. No hesitation.

“I know that you’re worried I’ve changed my mind, but that’s impossible. I’ve always only cared about you—”He continues his call, staring at me.

...What?

He says,“She is just your imitation. Your substitute.”

My eyes shoot open.

In that moment, I hear the sound of my heart breaking.