Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Out of Nothing Rejects You

Victoria gasped, still as a statue, bile rising as the truth dawned on her. The low glow of candlelight played across rustled sheets, her sister’s bare shoulders, Jason’s gleaming, sweat-slicked skin.

They hadn’t seen her yet.

Stacey yanked her through the walk-in closet and out of the room before Victoria did something stupid — like bite off Jason’s throat.

But inside her rage was a living thing. Her wolf wanted blood.

Jason’s voice pierced the air in the room.

“V—wait, I can explain!”

Victoria didn’t hesitate. She picked up the nearest pillow and threw it at his face. A pillow was too soft. His skull merited the marble nightstand.

Jason hurried to shove himself back into his pants, but the damage was already done. She had seen everything.

“You disgust me,” she spat.

Stacey, unfazed, zoomed in with her camera and took a picture. Blackmail material.

Katarina, ever the diva, gasped and covered herself with the blankets as if she were a head-injury victim. “Victoria, please don’t be upset! We didn’t intend for this—”

“Didn’t mean for this to happen?! ” Victoria’s voice trembled, her fists so tightly clenched her claws threatened to puncture her own flesh. “You two were fucking like animals in my sister’s bed! Tell me — what part of this was an accident?”

Jason stretched for her, and she flinched, revulsion coiling in her gut.

She turned and walked out.

Lady Dana Parson awaited in the hallway, brows furrowed.

“What happened?” her mother asked.

She couldn’t even look at Victoria.

Stacey, ever the savior, thrust her phone into Lady Dana’s hands. The older woman’s skin drained of color as she flipped through the evidence — irrefutable, iniquitous, treasonous.

Victoria didn’t stay to hear the reaction of her mother. She ran upstairs to her room, her heart breaking with each step.

How long had this been happening? How long had she been the fool?

It didn’t matter. She was done.

Stacey occupied the seat next to her, silent, waiting. She didn’t say, "It’s okay." Because it wasn’t. And Stacey was savvy enough to realize Victoria wasn’t seeking consolation — she was seeking an escape.

The door creaked open.

Lady Dana stepped inside, her face inscrutable.

“Victoria.”

Silence.

“I spoke with Katarina.”

Victoria gripped her palms until they hurt.

“And?”

“They love each other.”

She exhaled sharply. There it was. The betrayal was not just Jason’s or Katarina’s. It was her own family’s.

“They didn’t mean to hurt you,” her mother continued, as though this were some minor inconvenience, the wine on the expensive rug. “MAYBE IF YOU HAD TAKEN BETTER CARE OF YOUR RELATIONSHIP — WORE NICER CLOTHES, LOST A FEW MORE POUNDS —

Victoria’s hands shook.

“Enough.” Her voice was hardly above a whisper. “Just… stop.”

Her mother sighed as if it was Victoria who was difficult.

“We’re going to the doctor tomorrow. There are procedures that can —”

“Fix me?” Victoria laughed, but it was a laugh without humor. “Make me perfect? So that Jason will desire me again?”

Lady Dana nodded, deadpan.

Victoria stared at her.

Then turned away.

She stepped to her closet, took out a suitcase and began to pack.

“Stacey,” she said, her voice taut. “Get the car ready.”

Her best friend didn’t skip a beat.

Lady Dana’s face contorted with concern. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Anywhere that isn’t here.”

“Victoria, be reasonable. Do you even have a house?”

Victoria closed her bag and offered a bitter smile. “I bought one. Not that you ever noticed.”

Her mother’s face trembled with something—shock? Guilt? She didn’t care.

“You’re not leaving. We can fix this.”

“Fix what? Jason? My sister? Me?” Victoria brushed by her, flying down the stairs.

Her father, Lord Bailey Parson, waited at the bottom, arms crossed. “You are not leaving this house.”

She stared back at him, her eyes filled with intense, pure rage.

“I’m done being your daughter.”

Jason approached cautiously. Victoria, for God’s sake… It was a mistake. I still love you.”

She felt her stomach turn at the sound of his voice.

“Really?” she whispered. Then, before he could react—

She punched him.

His head jerked back, blood spraying from his nose.

Katarina cried, running to his side.

Victoria breathed out, shaking her hand out.

“That felt… really good.”

Her father snarled. “Enough! You’re acting like a little kid.”

Victoria focused on him, her expression flat. “A child? No. I’ve only just finally realized where I fit in this family. Nowhere.”

Lord Bailey’s voice echoed through the grand hall. “VICTORIA!”

She kept walking.

No more pain. No more insults. No more pretending.

Her father’s angry voice trailed her into the garage. “If you go now, don’t come back.”

She stopped at the driver’s door.

Then, without a backward glance — she flung her engagement ring onto the pavement.

It landed with a soft clink.

Then, she drove away.

A New Beginning

Victoria didn’t cry.

Not when they arrived at her home. Not when she unpacked. Not when Stacey hugged her and said, “You’re free now.”

She felt… empty.

But it always came at a price.

That night, Stacey smiled back. “Screw this. We’re going to a bar.”

Victoria blinked. “A bar?”

“Yes. And you’re drinking until you forget who Jason is.”

Five shots later, she certainly was forgetting.

Stacey nudged her. “Okay, hot guy, three o’clock.”

Victoria glanced up and her stomach dropped.

Tall. Muscular. Eyes like twin glittering gold moths, radiant under the photo tapestry of dark light, wild and savage like a predator watching its quarry.

Victoria knew she should turn away. But she couldn’t.

There was something different about him.

Dangerous.

And yet… utterly magnetic.

The stranger leaned back against the bar, and had his attention heaped eye-hanging, his waning glimpse sliding over the crowd and anchoring on hers. The air crackled between them and the corner of his lips curled up slowly.

Oh, hell. She was staring.

Stacey elbowed her, smiling widely. “You should talk to him.”

Victoria gasped, raked a hand through her hair. “I need to get more drinks in my system before I embarrass myself.”

“You’re already embarrassing yourself,” Stacey said, giving a tilt of her glass toward Victoria’s unmoved one. “You’ve been gawking for five minutes.

“Shut up,” Victoria whispered, but she still didn’t look away.

The stranger moved his head to the side, chuckling. Like he knew precisely the hold he had over her.

Victoria swallowed. Perhaps

it was the alcohol playing tricks on her mind.

Or maybe it was some other reason.

Something wilder.

The way she hadn’t in years.”

The grip on her glass tightened.

Maybe… it was fate.