The journey to the living room felt far longer than the hallway itself.
Every click of Ariella’s heels echoed through the estate like the ticking of a clock counting down to her execution.
The sheer veil softened her vision into pale shapes and shadows, but it couldn’t hide the curious stares that followed her from every servant and enforcer they passed.
Nobody offered her sympathy.
Nobody dared.
The guards standing along the corridor straightened as Cassandra approached, each lowering their head in silent acknowledgment before stepping aside.
Their radios hissed with static, pieces of Atlas’s voice drifting through the air.
It almost made Ariella laugh.
An entire security detail…just to keep one unwanted daughter from running.
Her mother’s grip never loosened.
“You will stop dragging your feet,” Cassandra muttered beneath her breath.
“I’m walking.”
“You’re sulking.”
“I think those are two different things.”
Cassandra’s fingers tightened painfully around her arm.
“Don’t test my patience.”
Ariella smiled beneath the veil.
“I wasn’t aware you had any.”
“You still have time to learn some respect.”
They reached the towering oak doors leading into the main living hall.
The voices on the other side faded the moment the doors were pushed open.
Conversation died and every eye turned toward her.
The room had been transformed for politics disguised as celebration.
The long oak table had been cleared, polished until it gleamed beneath the crystal chandeliers overhead.
Representatives from allied packs stood alongside board members from Black Ridge Security, each dressed in expensive suits that smelled faintly of leather, and power.
Documents lay neatly arranged at the center of the table.
Ariella didn’t look at them.
She looked at the man waiting beside them.
Grimshaw Blackridge.
He stood at the head of the table as though the room itself belonged to him.
Tall.
Broad.
Immovable.
His tailored suit strained across powerful shoulders that looked more accustomed to battle than boardrooms.
The silver threaded through his dark hair at the temples only sharpened the authority radiating from him, while the scar running along the side of his neck disappeared beneath the crisp collar of his shirt.
He wasn’t handsome in the polished way younger Alphas tried to be.
He was dangerous.
The kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice because everyone around him instinctively lowered theirs.
His dark eyes settled on the veiled woman entering the room.
They never left her.
A strange silence spread through the hall.
Like every wolf present had unconsciously sensed two storms about to collide.
Grimshaw watched her approach without moving.
She carried herself with perfect posture.
Her steps were graceful, composed even.
Anyone else might have mistaken her silence for obedience.
He didn’t.
No.
There was something in the way she held her shoulders.
Like a wolf refusing to bow despite the chains around its neck.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
“So that’s the infamous sixth daughter,” one elderly council member murmured under his breath.
“I heard she’s impossible,” another whispered.
“They say she tried to escape.”
“I heard Grimshaw had the entire estate locked down because of her.”
Grimshaw ignored every word.
He wasn’t interested in gossip.
He was studying her.
Even through the veil he could feel the fire.
The resentment.
The challenge.
His wolf stirred lazily beneath his skin in curiosity.
Most wolves lowered their eyes around him.
She hadn’t even seen his face properly yet…and somehow he already knew she wouldn’t.
Well.
He’d grown tired of easy victories years ago.
Cassandra guided Ariella to a stop in front of him before finally releasing her arm.
Only then did Grimshaw notice the faint red marks left behind on her wrist.
His eyes flicked briefly toward Cassandra.
One raised eyebrow, nothing more.
Yet the older woman instinctively took half a step back.
He looked back at Ariella.
She still hadn’t acknowledged him.
She kept her chin lifted, staring somewhere beyond his shoulder as though he were nothing more than another businessman she’d been forced to meet.
Most would have called it disrespect.
Grimshaw found himself suppressing the beginning of a smile.
“You’ve been avoiding looking at me,” he said quietly.
Her voice came immediately.
“I wasn’t aware I needed permission to look elsewhere.”
Several guests shifted uncomfortably.
Someone coughed.
Cassandra hissed beneath her breath.
“Ariella.”
“What?” Ariella asked innocently.
“He spoke to me.”
Grimshaw’s expression barely changed.
“I did.”
“And I answered.”
“Bold.”
“You asked boldly.”
For the first time that evening…the corner of Grimshaw’s mouth twitched.
Not quite a smile.
The room noticed.
Cassandra certainly did.
“Forgive my daughter, Alpha.
She has forgotten her manners,” she said quickly.
“No,” Grimshaw replied without taking his eyes off Ariella.
“I don’t think she has.”
Ariella finally looked directly at him through the veil.
“You think you know me already?”
“I think,” Grimshaw answered calmly, “that you’re angry.”
Their eyes remained locked through the thin white fabric.
For the first time since this nightmare had begun…he wasn’t looking at Ariella with pity.
He was looking at her…like she interested him.
She hated that.
Almost as much as she hated the tiny flutter her wolf gave in response.
Grimshaw took one slow step closer.
The room seemed to disappear around them.
His scent reached her first.
Strong, intoxicating and grounding.
Her wolf lifted its head inside her chest.
‘Mine.’
Ariella immediately shoved the instinct down.
Absolutely not.
Not him, not ever.
“The veil,” Grimshaw said, his voice deep enough to vibrate through the silence.
No one moved.
“I said…” His gaze shifted briefly toward Cassandra.
“…the veil.”
Cassandra hurried to obey, but Grimshaw lifted one hand.
“I’ll do it.”
She froze immediately.
Slowly…deliberately…he reached for the delicate fabric.
His fingers brushed the edge of the veil where it rested against Ariella’s temple.
The touch was featherlight.
Yet it sent an unexpected shiver racing down her spine.
She hated herself for reacting.
His eyes caught the tiny movement.
“There you are,” he murmured so quietly only she could hear.
“I was beginning to wonder if there was anything beneath all this composure.”
“I wouldn’t flatter yourself, Alpha.”
“I’m not.”
His fingers gathered the fabric.
With one smooth motion…he lifted the veil.
Light spilled across her face.
Golden eyes met dark ones without anything between them.
For a heartbeat…neither of them spoke.
The room faded.
It was only the two of them.
Grimshaw had expected beauty.
What he hadn’t expected was defiance wrapped inside it.
She wasn’t frightened.
She looked at him like she was memorizing an enemy before going to war.
A slow, almost amused smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.
“Little kitten, you look like you’re about to bite.”
Ariella didn’t blink.
“You noticed.”
“I’d be disappointed if you weren’t.”
“I hope disappointment becomes familiar to you, Alpha.”
“I doubt it.”
“You don’t know what you’ve brought upon yourself, Alpha Grimshaw.”
“No,” Grimshaw agreed.
“I know exactly what I chose.”
Her jaw tightened.