Lynn's POV

I check my phone again. 7:15 PM.

Grayson's late, but that's normal for an Alpha-in-training. I smooth down my emerald dress and touch the velvet box in my purse—a custom money clip I spent three months saving for. Tonight marks three years since we started dating, three years since he chose me despite the whispers about my "average" bloodline.

The soft jazz playing overhead is the same song from our first kiss in this booth.

'He's coming,' my wolf Istha murmurs.

I look up eagerly—

There.

Grayson pushes through the door, and my breath catches. Tall, broad-shouldered, ice-blue eyes. He's wearing the charcoal suit I bought him.

I half-rise, lifting my hand to wave—

He walks right past me.

My hand freezes mid-air.

Grayson moves through the restaurant like I'm invisible, his gaze locked on someone behind me. His steps slow, then stop completely.

The entire restaurant holds its breath.

I turn slowly.

She's beautiful. Long blonde hair, designer dress, magazine-cover face. Shirley Lawson—the she-wolf who's made it clear she considers Grayson her property.

She's staring at Grayson with the same frozen intensity he's directing at her.

No. No.

'Fated mates,' Istha whimpers.

The air between them shimmers with divine energy. I can see it in how Grayson's entire body orients toward her, pupils dilating, breath stopping before he gasps like surfacing from deep water.

My chest caves in.

"Oh my Goddess," Shirley breathes, hand pressed to her throat. "I can't believe it. I can't—Grayson?"

"I've been waiting for you." His voice is rough, reverent. "My whole life."

They move toward each other like pulled by invisible strings. Around us, diners begin to whisper—

"—fated mates—"

"—how romantic—"

"—isn't that his girlfriend right there?"

Several heads swivel toward me. I'm still half-standing, hand stupidly raised, the anniversary gift burning in my purse.

This can't be happening. Not today. Not when I was going to tell him about the scholarship, about my jewelry design program in New York.

Grayson cups Shirley's face with both hands. "You're perfect. Everything I ever dreamed of."

The words—almost identical to what he said to me three years ago—pierce through my chest like silver bullets.

'We need to leave,' Istha urges.

But I can't move. Can't look away as he looks at her like she hung the moon.

Shirley laughs, bright and delighted. "I knew it would be you. The Goddess wouldn't give me anyone less than a future Alpha."

My fingers find the velvet box. I pull it out slowly, staring at the stupid, useless gift. Three months of saved money. All for a male who's looking at another she-wolf like I never existed.

I feel like a joke.

Wolves at nearby tables stare openly now. One she-wolf has her phone out, probably texting the gossip to the entire pack.

My face burns with humiliation.

I need to talk to him. Need to make him understand I won't fight this, that I'll step aside gracefully. I'll go to New York, pursue my dream of becoming a chief jewelry designer.

I just need him to see me.

I stand on shaking legs and walk toward them. "Grayson."

He doesn't respond. His focus remains locked on Shirley.

"Grayson," I try louder. "Can we talk? Just for a minute?"

Nothing. Like I'm invisible.

Panic claws up my throat. "Grayson!" I reach out and grab his arm.

Shirley's head snaps toward me. "Get your filthy hands off my mate!"

She lunges forward, nails raking across my arm. The sting makes me gasp.

"I just need to talk—"

Her palm cracks across my face.

The slap echoes through the silent restaurant. My cheek explodes with pain.

Then rage floods through me.

'Defend!' Istha roars, and my claws punch through.

I strike back.

Three lines tear across Shirley's perfect face, blood welling immediately. She stumbles backward with a shriek.

The world freezes.

'What did we do?' Istha whimpers. 'Protect. Must protect—'

"You bitch!" Shirley screams. Then her eyes lock with mine—cold calculation flashing through the tears.

She throws herself backward toward the entrance.

"No—!" I lunge forward, but I'm too slow.

Shirley tumbles down the three steps, hitting each one with sickening thuds. She lands in a crumpled heap, leg twisted, blood smearing the floor.

Her scream pierces the air. "She pushed me! She tried to kill me!"

"I didn't—!" I race down after her. "Shirley, I didn't push you!"

The door bursts open. Half a dozen wolves pour in—Erikson, Grayson's Beta-in-training, and others. Their eyes take in Shirley bleeding, me standing over her with claws extended.

"What the hell happened?" Erikson demands.

"She attacked me!" Shirley sobs. "She went crazy and pushed me down the stairs!"

"That's not—"

Footsteps behind me. Grayson descends slowly, each footfall deliberate. His eyes have bled to black—his wolf Arthur surging forward. Power rolls off him in waves.

"What did you do to my mate?" His voice drops to a deadly growl.

"I didn't push her," I say desperately. "Grayson, you have to believe me—she threw herself down!"

"Liar." He kneels beside Shirley. "I saw the claw marks. I saw you standing over her."

"But it's the truth! Why would I lie?"

"You can't accept that I found my fated mate, so you tried to kill her."

"I would never—"

"You're jealous. Bitter. Toxic." His voice rises. "You attacked the future Luna because you couldn't handle that I chose someone better."

Better. The word is a knife.

"Three years," I choke out. "Doesn't that mean anything?"

"It was fun while it lasted." Ice-cold. "But you always knew this could happen. Fated mates come first. Always."

Fun. Three years reduced to fun.

"You're dangerous," Grayson continues. "I want you gone."

"What?"

"Get out of Fire Moon Pack." Alpha command booms through his words, driving me to my knees. "Leave. Now. Before I kill you myself. Thirty seconds."

'Run!' Istha shrieks.

"This isn't fair—" Tears stream down my face.

"Twenty seconds."

"I loved you." Barely a whisper.

"Ten seconds."

Behind him, Shirley watches through her fingers, eyes triumphant. Her lips form two silent words: You lose.

"Five seconds."

I run.

My feet hit the stairs at a sprint. I burst through the entrance, cool air slapping my face. My car is three blocks away—too far—

I drop my keys twice before unlocking the door. The engine roars just as Erikson bursts out.

"Lynn!" He's sprinting toward me. "Lynn, wait!"

I throw the car into reverse. Tires screech.

"Lynn, stop!"

I can't. The cold fury in Grayson's eyes—I believe his threat. He'll kill me.

I floor the accelerator.

Fifteen miles to the Fire Moon boundary. I push my ancient Honda to its limits, checking the rearview mirror constantly.

What if Grayson changes his mind? What if Shirley wants more punishment? What if my parents pay for my "crimes"?

Oh Goddess, my parents.

'Must protect,' Istha suddenly speaks, urgent.

"Protect what?" I sob. "Everything's gone—"

'No. Protect pup.'

My foot slips off the accelerator. "What?"

'Our pup. Alpha's pup.'

The world tilts. I yank the wheel, pulling onto the shoulder. My hands find my stomach.

"No. We can't be—"

'Because you're pregnant,' Istha says firmly. 'You're carrying Grayson's pups. Two of them.'