Chapter 2

Ophelia

Sun block, and ocean mist.

Those were the scents of my childhood, the ones that clung to the bits and pieces of the half-formed memories rattling around in my skull.

I breathed each one in through the tiny bedroom window at the tippy top of Lucille’s modernistic nightmare of a beach villa. She’d stuffed me in the attic like a frail Victorian child she was afraid of the neighbors seeing.

Little did she know, she was doing me a favor.

Kimberly, my older sister, was moving out of her dorm at Eclipse University and back home to be closer to our darling mother. Why she felt the need to come back when she only lived thirty minutes away, I’d never know.

That made the attic my safe haven.

“Ophelia!”

Or so I’d thought.

I rolled out of bed, sneezing when a plume of dust hit my nose. It was like she purposefully kept the attic in shambles. Whatever, at least it would give me a project to focus on.

The door creaked as I opened it, “Yes, Lucille?”

“Make yourself presentable and get down here, now!”

Exhaling sharply between clenched teeth, I changed out of my threadbare pajama pants and sweatshirt combo, exchanging them for a pair of torn jeans and an old band shirt. The long sleeves were stretched out, making it easy to conceal the dark-bond mark on my wrist.

Lucille would lose her mind, but it’s not like I had the money to go and purchase new clothes.

Sure enough, her side-eye was vicious, homed on my form as though the holes in my jeans were a personal affront to her very existence.

“Yes, Lucille?” I repeated, this time in a tone so sickly sweet that her shrewd eyes narrowed.

Her diamond bracelets, each one worth thousands, clinked together as she flung her hand in the direction of the kitchen. It was hard not to be disgusted by her wealth when the only pair of shoes I had were falling apart at the seams.

“Your sister and her boyfriend are coming over for dinner. The staff won’t be here until tomorrow, so I expect you to serve the food and wine.”

There wasn’t enough people living in this house to require full-time cleaning and cooking staff. It was just absurd, but Lucille didn’t care. She’d do damn near anything to maintain her image of wealthy, single mother.

I bit the inside of my cheek, the pain cutting through the numbness. “I assume you don’t want me eating at the table.”

“Don’t be stupid, Ophelia.” She scoffed, the crows feet beside her eyes deepening as she sneered, “You can eat in your room, out of sight.”

On that note, she marched through the lavish foyer, past pillars of cold marble and oak tables topped with crystal vases overflowing with flowers. I followed her into a kitchen larger than my bedroom, stocked with an army of shiny new appliances.

Her Louboutin heels clacked as she sauntered over to a large island that carved the room in two, where several platters of food sat.

I eyed the silver pans warily, “You ordered catering?”

Lucille slapped her hand down on the countertop. Once, I would’ve flinched. As of lately, I could barely muster up the fear she so loved to feed on.

“As I said, the staff won’t be starting until tomorrow. You’ll serve us, and you’ll keep that mouth of yours shut as you do so.”

“Yes, Lucille,” I replied blandly.

Sensing the lack of care in my voice, she whirled around and jabbed her finger in my face. The sharp tip of her nail was inches from my eye, so close I could make out the blemishes in her manicure.

“So help me, girl. If you screw this up, you won’t have dinner for a week.”

My stomach snarled. When was the last time I’d eaten, anyway?

“I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“See that you are.” She spat, her heels click, click, clicking as she sauntered from the room.

Absentmindedly, I ran my fingers over the raised mark on my wrist. The blackened crescent moon was still painfully raw, a permanent reminder of my place in the world.

Rejected, dark-bonded, nothing more than a pawn in a scheme I wanted no part of…

I stood there for goddess knows how long, lost in the dark cloud that infected my thoughts. At times, I wished I could curl up in its embrace and let it consume me.

Maybe then I’d know peace.

A rush of sensation slithered down my spine, as though a thousand tiny spiders were crawling across my back.

Kimberly’s throaty voice trickled in through the door, “This is my darling mother. She’s been so excited to meet you.”

A tittering laugh, much like the wail of a hyena, sounded in response. “It’s not every day my daughter finds someone worthy of her intelligence and prowess.”

Any other time, I would’ve gagged or made a face at my mother’s obvious favoritism, but I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore. What did it matter that I meant nothing to her? It would never change. All I could do was grit my teeth and deal with it.

Which is exactly what I did.

Another shrill giggle later and Kimberly continued, “This is Astrid, my little sister. Isn’t she just a doll?”

I held my breath and counted to sixty, only exhaling when my lungs began to burn. Doing my best to block out their conversation as it flowed in from the dining room, I set to work making plates and fetching the bottle of wine Lucille had chosen from the wine cellar.

The scent of apple-roasted duck, au gratin potatoes, and grilled asparagus wafted into my face as I set the plates on a silver serving cart. My stomach snarled, sending a pang of pain into my gut.

Ignoring the uncomfortable sensation, I tucked the bottle of wine beneath my arm and made my way into the dining room.

All conversation, apart from Kimberly’s nasal laughter, evaporated as I emerged from the kitchen. The cart squeaked quietly across the marble floors, skipping when I locked eyes with the most entrancing man I’d ever seen.

If rugged beauty were a weapon, his was a razor-sharp blade ready to slice flesh from bone at a moment’s notice.

With my mouth dry, I peeled my eyes away from his tanned skin and curly hair the color of a raven’s feather. Instead, I made my way to where Lucille sat, a look of disdain carved into her weathered face.

I had just set a plate in front of her when she snarled, “How dare you serve me before the Alpha.”

The Alpha?

Kimberly flicked her auburn locks, which were curled into perfect ringlets, over her shoulder and flashed me a coy grin.

She rested a hand on his muscled shoulder, “I apologize, Ryker. My sister doesn’t know any better. She’s always had a problem with respecting her superiors.”

Lucille must’ve told Kimberly about Alpha Hunter.

With my heart floundering in my chest, I quickly circled the table until reaching the spot where my sister’s boyfriend—Alpha fucking Ryker—sat.

Sweat beaded along my forehead. This man wasn’t just an Alpha, but a witch as well. Magic flowed within his veins, thick and heady. For a moment, I thought I could feel it reaching out to me, gliding over my sleeve covered arms.

“Is that so?”

The deep baritone of his voice, laced with a light Italian accent, had my toes curling in my shoes. If it weren’t for the utter lack of warmth, I might’ve swooned.

When was the last time I felt something like this?

The scar on my wrist began to burn, and I shut that train of thought down immediately. I didn’t want to think of Alpha Hunter. Not for a goddess-damned second.

With trembling hands I set his plate down in front of him, silently cursing myself.

Alpha Ryker narrowed his eyes at me, the silver within turning molten “She will learn the hard way then.” He shook his head, “Ragazza stupida.” [Silly girl]

Brushing her fingers over his Rolex, Kimberly giggled as though he’d said something hilarious. Showing no reaction to her tittering, Alpha Ryker snapped his fingers.

“Wine, ragazza.” [Girl]

I popped open the bottle and went to pour it into his glass, all too aware of the curved slope of his jawline mere inches from my face. If I’d turned, I’d be able to make out the harsh angle of his nose and the slight tilt to his sinfully pouty lips.

My nerves got the best of me, and I sucked in a quiet breath, only to be hit upside the head with his scent.

Rich dark chocolate with an undertone of something spicy.

‘Mate,’ my wolf howled. ‘That’s our mate.’

The bond crashed into my soul with an aggression that had me gasping. I jumped, the bottle of wine slipping from my fingers where it fell to Alpha Ryker’s lap.

He jumped up, his beige slacks now stained crimson.

“Cazzo!” [Fuck]

Pain cracked across my cheek, sending me stumbling back. Gaping, I held a hand to my face. He slapped me?

I knew the pain of being backhanded, yet Alpha Ryker hadn’t so much as lifted a hand.

He used magic. He must have.

I barely registered Kimberly’s nails digging into my shoulder as she shoved me back. The bond was a living, breathing thing in my chest, squirming as it tried to draw me closer to Alpha Ryker.

This couldn’t be happening.

I had a second-chance mate. This man was the only chance I had to rid myself of the dark bond on my wrist, and he’d backhanded me as though it were nothing.

If only that were the end of it, but no. Not only was he an Alpha, but he was also my sister’s boyfriend.

Goddess, why?

Lucille stormed over to where I stood, my back against the wall. She grabbed me by the arm, her nails piercing the thin fabric of my shirt, and dragged me into the kitchen.

“You useless, stupid girl!” Her eyes flashed with hatred, pure hatred that had me stumbling back. “Go! Get out of my sight while I try to preserve what’s left of this dinner.”

Unable to think straight, I careened through the servants exit, barely remembering to grab my phone off the countertop. Outside was a small path that led to a private driveway. It wrapped around the array of sculpted shrubbery to a hidden garage where the staff was supposed to park.

Warm, salty air swirled in my lungs as I walked aimlessly. Blood pounded in my ears. The mark on my wrist burned, and burned, and burned.

I blinked and realized I was on the main road, passing the beach front villa’s with their manicured lawns brightly lit porch lights.

Come the morning, the rich wives would emerge for their ten-mile jogs, pushing themselves until they managed to shed those final few pounds.

If there was one consolation to this mess, it was that the mate-bond hadn’t snapped into place for Alpha Ryker. The cruel, Italian heartthrob was utterly clueless as to who I was.

It was better this way, I told myself. I wouldn’t be able to survive another rejection.

“Hey! Hey, you!”

A car, sleek and lithe, painted in the darkness that was slowly overtaking the sky, pulled up alongside me. The top of the convertible was down, drawing my eyes to the three girls sitting within.

I stared at them, unable to form words.

“You live in the Hawkins villa, right? I saw you run outside.” The driver said behind a long curtain of dark hair. She flicked it over her shoulder, revealing a sculpted face and high cheekbones, “I’m your neighbor, Diana. Are you related to Kimberly, by chance? We’re in some of the same classes at Eclipse U.”

There was a sharp edge to her voice. She didn’t like Kimberly, not by a long shot. If I were a betting woman, I’d say her interest in me had something to do with Alpha Ryker—Kimberly’s boyfriend.

“She’s my sister,” I said listlessly.

One of the girls in the back, her hair a halo of golden curls, squealed loudly, “Oh my goddess, seriously? You two look nothing alike.”

Diana flicked her hand at the girl in the passenger seat. “In the back, Gemma. Our new friend is going to sit up front.”

Not daring to protest, Gemma tossed me a narrow-eyed look and slipped into the back beside the squealing blonde. I dragged my stare back to Diana, who watched me with silent expectation.

“Get in, new girl, and don’t bother protesting. You need friends, and I need information. It’s a win-win, really.”

I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t. I’d been seconds away from voicing as much when a chill slithered down my spine. In the darkness, beneath the golden glow of the streetlamp, it almost seemed as though Diana’s eyes were swirling.

“Where are we going?” I blinked again and again. That wasn’t what I had meant to say.

Diana’s lips, which were heavier on the bottom, curled upwards. “Only to the best club in all of Lunar Isle. What do you say, new girl? Don’t tell me you’re allergic to fun.”

The longer I stared into her eyes, wondering if I’d imagined the strange swirl of color, the harder it was to form words. What was I worried about, anyway? After what I’d endured, why should I be afraid of three mean girls?

And just like that, the tension faded from my shoulders, melting away like seafoam kissing a sandy shore.

“Okay, I’m in.”