Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Eve’s POV

I stand before the glass walls, craning my neck to take in the name above the shop.

Silver Hounds.

The most infamous club in town.

It’s daylight now, so the place seems almost deserted, but at night? There’s no room to breathe, let alone step inside. Men line up in the hundreds for a chance to get in.

It’s a money-making empire.

Someone told me they pay the women hefty here, so here I am.

Rubbing my clammy palms on my worn-out pants, I push the door open, a bell ringing in my wake.

The inside reeks of extravagance: a long bar stretches across one side, and plush red couches are scattered strategically. My gaze catches on a woman wearing nothing but a lacy red bra and matching lingerie, fishnets encasing her legs.

I stagger toward her, nerves tightening like a vice.

“Excuse me, ma’am—”

She turns, her eyes narrowing, and I’m hit by the sight of her makeup-caked face—pierced nose, winged eyeliner, and lips painted a vivid, threatening red.

“What, beggar?” she snaps. “This isn’t a charity.”

“I—I’m here to work. I want to work here.”

Her hazel eyes widen, and she gives me a slow, deliberate once-over, scanning from my head to my worn shoes.

“You want to be a stripper?”

To be honest, I don’t even know what that means. But I’m desperate. Desperate enough to do anything for money. Twelve stomachs depend on me, including my own.

“Yes,” I say quickly. “What’s the pay—”

She smirks, cutting me off.

“Hold on, bitch. First, take that shawl off. Let’s see what you’re hiding under there.”

My stomach churns.

I hesitate but force my hands to move, unwrapping the shawl slowly. Her scrutinizing eyes rake over my stick-like figure.

“Turn around,” she orders, smacking my backside as I comply. My fists clench.

“You might pass,” she mutters, “but let’s see your face.”

My throat tightens. Here goes nothing.

I remove the shawl, exposing the scar that mars my cheek.

Her eyes widen for a split second before she bursts into laughter.

Throwing her head back, she laughs like I’m the punchline of a cruel joke.

“Seriously? Girl, you’ve got to be kidding me. Who would pay to look at that?”

The words cut deep, sharp and jagged, but I bite my tongue. She has no right to say that, no right to judge me—

But she’s not wrong.

Why would anyone pay to see a scarred face?

“You’d ruin the club’s reputation just by being here,” she sneers. “Better get lost before the boss sees you.”

Her words are like a slap, each one colder than the last.

“Please, what about cleaning? I’ll do anything—”

She waves me off, already walking away, muttering curses under her breath.

I watch her full hips sway as she disappears, the sight only deepening my despair. She’s everything I’m not—beautiful, confident, wanted.

Dragging the shawl back over my face, I step outside. People’s stares burn into me, whispers floating through the air. My heart sinks when I realize the shawl wasn’t fully covering my scar. I pull it tighter and turn to leave.

That’s when I hear the commotion.

A crowd gathers nearby, the center of their attention a woman’s desperate cries.

“Please, mercy! I beg you!”

I inch closer, my curiosity piqued despite myself.

In the middle of the crowd kneels a stunning woman, her dress rich and luxurious, though it’s now torn and smeared with dirt. Beside her is a man, his face bloodied and his back striped with fresh lashes.

A royal guard looms over him, whip in hand.

The woman shields the man with her body, her voice breaking as she pleads.

“Isn’t that Luna Beatrice and Alpha Ferd of Rinderhale?” someone whispers.

“I heard they were caught trafficking drugs—and women.”

The pity I felt for her dissolves in an instant.

Trafficking women? How could anyone, let alone another woman, do something so vile?

The guard raises his whip again, and the Luna cries out, shielding the Alpha with her arms.

“Alpha King ordered a hundred lashes,” a voice announces. “We’re not even halfway through.”

My stomach drops. I recognize that voice.

Beta John.

The second most powerful man in the kingdom.

His towering frame radiates authority, his green eyes cold and detached.

The Alpha groans, struggling to rise, and suddenly everything happens at once. He lunges, snatching a sword from a guard’s holster.

Before I can react, the blade is pressed to my throat.

Gasps ripple through the crowd.

“Move back!” the Alpha bellows. “No one comes closer, or this woman dies!”

My breath catches, body frozen as I feel the cold of the blade digs into my skin.

“Stand down!” Beta John orders, his voice sharp, but the guards hesitate.

“Wrong answer,” the Alpha growls. “Three… two…”

I close my eyes, bracing for the worst.

Then—

BANG.

Warmth splatters across my face. A thud echoes.

My eyes snap open to find the Alpha crumpled on the ground, blood pooling beneath him.

His dead eyes stare blankly ahead.

What the hell-

The Luna screams, crawling to his body, her sobs piercing the air.

“Ferd! No! Please, no!”

And then she collapses as well.

Silence.

Thud.

Her lifeless body falls on top of his.

My mind reels, frozen in shock.

Footsteps echo through the hush, steady and deliberate.

A man steps forward, lowering a gun with a black hood covering his face.

The aura he exudes is suffocating, dark and malevolent. None like I had ever felt before. Before I know every single person bows to him.

Why… why are they bowing? Whats happening here?

I stood there frozen. Not knowing what to do and that's when under that hood I watch sharp grey eyes briefly flick to mine, and my knees almost buckle.

Whats happening to me?

Whats that aura?

Not a word, not a glance longer than a fleeting second, and he turns to Beta John.

“Dispose of them.”

His voice is ice, emotionless.

Beta John bows. “Right away, Your Highness.”

Wait a second. What did he say?

Your Highness.

My blood ran cold as the reality settled in. So does this mean… he was him?

Alpha Killain?

Shit!

I stand there, drenched in crimson, trembling.

Not a single drop of it mine. As I watch his huge frame walking into the shadows, like he owned them.

With an aura that dangerous and powerful I couldn't help think how he looked under that hood.

Beautiful? The word would be a shame.

I have heard woman literally worship him. That he is some God of beauty. Why do I care? Its not like a man like him will ever spare me a second glance.

I was just an ugly little timid woman. And you know the best part?

I knew it.