Lorelei

The room was fit for a queen.

That was the problem—I didn't feel like one.

I stood before the full-length mirror, studying the woman who stared back at me. Sky-blue silk draped over my body in ways that whispered elegance rather than screamed seduction. The dress was regal, understated, the kind of thing a real queen would wear to a meeting with powerful alphas. It had been delivered that morning with a note from Igor: Wear this. It says everything we need them to hear.

A week. ...