The rain lashed against the windows of Blackwood Tower, a relentless storm that seemed to mirror the chaos in Selene's chest. She tightened her grip on the folder in her hands, the edges crumpling beneath her trembling fingers. The weight of her decision pressed upon her like the dark clouds swirling outside, heavy and foreboding.
Tonight. It ends tonight.
Her heart thudded—not from fear, but from the fire of revenge burning through her veins. For years, she had waited for this moment. For years, she had clawed her way through the human world, masking her wolf, burying her past beneath a facade of control and ambition. The memories of laughter, warmth, and love had been replaced by shadows of betrayal and loss. The man who stood before her, Damien Blackwood, was the architect of her suffering, the one who had taken everything from her.
"Miss Drake."
The deep, commanding voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she raised her gaze to meet the piercing, obsidian eyes of Damien Blackwood. He was even more dangerous in person. Impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit, he exuded power, every line of his body carved with lethal grace. His presence consumed the room, an aura of dominance that made the air crackle with tension.
For a heartbeat, her wolf howled beneath her skin, a primal instinct urging her to flee, to fight, to reclaim what was lost. Resist.
"You understand the terms?" he asked, his voice cold as winter steel, slicing through the thick atmosphere.
Selene swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to remain composed. "I marry you. In exchange, you wipe my father's debts and release my brother from your custody."
A cruel smirk ghosted across his lips, a flash of triumph that ignited a flicker of defiance within her. "A contract marriage. You become my wife, my property, and in return, you win your freedom."
His words were a knife to her pride, but she forced herself to nod, suppressing the anger that threatened to spill over. She had come too far to back down now.
Soon, you'll regret underestimating me, Blackwood.
"Good," he said, rising to his feet, his eyes roving over her face with the precision of a predator sizing up its prey. "The wedding is tomorrow. You're mine now, Selene Drake. Body, name, and soul."
The storm outside roared as if it carried the cries of the past, the echoes of a life she had once cherished. But Selene raised her chin, fire flashing in her eyes.
Not yours, Damien Blackwood. Never truly yours.
Tomorrow, the game begins.
As she left Blackwood Tower, the rain pounded against her, a relentless reminder of the tempest brewing within her. Each drop felt like a promise, a vow to herself that she would reclaim her life, her power, and her freedom. The night air was thick with tension, and she could feel her wolf stirring, sensing the impending confrontation.
In the depths of her mind, visions of her brother flashed—a boy with kind eyes and laughter that could light up the darkest corners of her heart. He had been taken, a pawn in Damien's cruel game. But no longer. She would not let fear dictate her actions any longer. This was her moment to seize; she would turn the tables on the man who thought he held all the cards.
Selene spent the night plotting, her mind racing through every possible scenario. She would play the role of the dutiful fiancée, but she would do so with a hidden agenda. She would learn his weaknesses, exploit them, and ultimately, bring him to his knees. The thought sent a thrill through her, a spark of excitement that momentarily dulled the ache of loss.
The next day dawned, the storm having passed but leaving a chill in the air. Selene stood before the mirror, adjusting the delicate lace of her wedding gown. It was beautiful, a stark contrast to the turmoil within her. She looked poised, elegant, but beneath the surface, a tempest brewed.
As she walked down the aisle, each step felt like a step closer to her goal. The guests were a blur, their faces indistinct as she focused solely on Damien, who stood at the altar, a picture of confidence. His dark eyes sparkled with anticipation, as if he could already taste the victory.
But he didn't know her. He didn't understand the depth of her resolve.
The ceremony unfolded like a carefully scripted play, each word a thread weaving her fate into his. But in her heart, she was not binding herself to him; she was biding her time. The moment the officiant pronounced them husband and wife, a surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins.
She was no longer just Selene Drake. She was a wolf in sheep's clothing, a force of nature ready to unleash her wrath.
As they turned to face the crowd, she caught his gaze, and a wicked smile curled her lips.
"Welcome to the game, Damien," she whispered under her breath, a promise laced with vengeance.
The storm may have passed, but the real tempest was just beginning. Selene Drake was no longer a victim; she was a player, and she would reclaim everything that had been stolen from her. The battle lines were drawn, and she was ready to fight.