ELARA'S POV.

Beauty, they say, is pain.

I believed it now, standing wrapped in a scarlet silk red dress that clung to me like fire. The dress was merciless, sculpting every curve I’d once ignored, weaponizing me into something deadly. As I stood on the stairs leading to the penthouse, It dawned on me that tonight wasn’t about vanity. No. Tonight was the beginning of a lifetime’s revenge, made possible by He.

Julian Volkov.

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He smirked over the rim of his glass, eyes gleaming like he had pulled me from a chessboard rather than a bar. “Still confused, little one?”

Little one. The words itched under my skin, a deliberate insult. I leaned forward, forcing steel into my voice. “I’d prefer you use my name, the same one written in your letter.”

He swirled his liquor lazily, unbothered.

“You’ve offered services,” I pressed, “but all I hear is the word revenge and you’ve yet to explain, why me. Or even… why you?”

The smirk faltered. For a second, the veins in his neck bulged with rage, and the tumbler cracked under his grip, spilling the contents of what must have kept him calm. When he spoke, his voice was sharp enough to cut.

“In front you is Julian Volkov, Black sheep of the Volkovs, younger brother to Kael Volkov, the Alpha, the murderer of your parents, the thief of everything I was meant to inherit. He has taken my ventures, even my beloved. Now, with you, I’ll take from him what he values most: his power. His pride.”

My blood ran cold. Kael, the Alpha, wasn’t just a name whispered in nightmares. He was real, breathing, untouchable. Until now.

Although, funny I might have found that it was over a woman that he wanted to get even with his brother, I couldn’t help but wonder,

“Why me?” I whispered.

Julian’s lips curved into something wolfish. “Because he’ll never suspect you. You’re the child of his sins returned to haunt him. He desires beauty like a drug, and you, Elara, are everything he cannot resist.”

His words should have steadied me, but instead they hollowed me out. Was I bait or blade? Both, perhaps.

“What do these services require?”

“Everything that makes you a woman,” Julian murmured. “There’s a gala at his penthouse tonight. A celebration of his hospital opening, a bid to appear benevolent. You’ll attend. You’ll catch his attention. And when the time comes, you’ll get me what I need. His phone. Evidence. Power. A domino toppled.”

A chill swept through me at the thought. Making a deal with Julian was like clutching fire, I’d burn either way. Still, the image of my parents’ lifeless eyes hardened me.

I met his gaze, my own icy. “Fine.”

A slow, victorious smile spread across his face. “Good girl,” he breathed, standing. “Expect a message. Clothes, contract, all provided. Happy revenge, little one.”

And then he was gone, leaving only the echo of temptation behind.

Leaving the Silver Crescent club, the night air outside was cool, almost cleansing, until a shadow moved. A figure stepped from the alley, rough hands clamping onto my arms, yanking me into the dimness.

“Don’t accept it,” he hissed, eyes feverish, voice a jagged whisper. “Whatever deal he offered, tear it up. Forget the Volkov name.”

I struggled, fury rising. His grip was iron, his fingers biting into the scarlet silk. “Their world eats outsiders. It doesn’t welcome, it consumes.”

I glared into his broken, frantic face. “It already ate my family. What more can it take?”

His hold faltered for a second, the truth cutting deeper than my resistance. I wrenched free, stepping back into the street’s light. Behind me, he melted into the shadows, swallowed by his own warning.

If the Volkovs world was poison, then I would be the venom in their veins.

The gala glittered like sin.

Chandeliers dripped gold light over velvet walls, and the air hummed with the low thrum of a string quartet and the clink of crystal. Wolves in tuxedos prowled the room disguised as men, their laughter sharp and territorial. Julian had kept his word: the dress, the invitation, even the instructions. Tonight’s task was simple, slip close enough to Kael Volkov to take his phone.

My pulse quickened as I handed off my coat and slipped toward the bar. Martini in hand, I scanned the crowd. And then—

He appeared.

Kael Volkov.

The air seemed to bend around him. Tall, broad-shouldered, his jaw carved from marble, hair black as midnight. His eyes, crimson shadows, locked onto me with the weight of a predator spotting prey. No wonder Julian seethed, Kael was a god carved into flesh. A god who had murdered my parents.

He crossed the room like gravity drew him. “Hello, beautiful.” His voice was deep, smooth, unsettlingly gentle.

Then, with a faint correction, “Regal. That suits you better. Miss…?”

“Elara Mitchell.” The lie slid from my tongue like venom disguised as honey.

If he noticed the hesitation, he didn’t show it. Instead, his mouth curved in something dangerous. “Mitchell. Tell me, what brings a lady like you to such a tiresome party?”

I tilted my head, smiling. “What would a man like you want at a party like this?”

His eyes sharpened, amused. “I threw it actually. A party to commiserate the opening of a new hospital, I had just built. For human and wolf alike. For the good of all.”

The words were for the crowd. But the way he watched me wasn’t benevolent. It was dissecting. Searching.

“And the woman in red who makes my wolf restless, what’s her story?”

His wolf. He thought I was one of them. Panic threatened, but I buried it beneath a playful curve of my lips. “Nothing special. Just a woman bored to hell at a party you threw.”

His chuckle was low, dark, vibrating through me. “Bored, are we? Then perhaps I should offer… entertainment. Away from prying eyes.”

The invitation hummed like a live wire. I feigned indifference. “Just us?”

His hand found my waist, burning even through silk. He bent close, voice edged with steel. “Just us, if you dare.”

A woman really was his true weakness.

The martini scorched down my throat as I drained it. My pulse screamed danger, but my body betrayed me, shivering under his touch. Revenge demanded I play along. Desire threatened to unravel me.

I met his gaze, steady, unflinching. “Lead the way then, Kael. Send me into oblivion.”

For a heartbeat, something flickered in his eyes, recognition, suspicion, hunger. As if he saw through the charm to the storm beneath. Then he smiled, slow and devastating, and guided me away from the glittering crowd, deeper into the shadows.

With every step echoed the truth I couldn’t escape, Kael Volkov was supposed to be my target. So why did it feel like I had become the targeted ?

A prey to my prey?