The Blood Rescue

🩸 CHAPTER 8: THE GALA OF WOLVES

The ballroom of the Volkov estate was a glittering cage of crystal

chandeliers, flowing champagne, and lethal intent.

I stood at the edge of the velvet-draped balcony, looking down at the

sea of tailored tuxedos and elegant evening gowns. If I didn't know

any better, I would have thought I was attending a high-society

charity gala. But the subtle, metallic tang of hidden firearms under

silk linings, and the thick, suffocating aura of dominant Alphas

marking their territory, reminded me exactly where I was.

The ruby-red silk dress clung to my curves like a second skin,

shifting gracefully with every breath I took. Following Jax's explicit

command, I had left my throat completely bare, showcasing the

unmarred, porcelain skin where his claiming mark would eventually go.

"You look like a goddess, and you breathe like a prey," a smooth,

dangerous voice murmured beside me.

Jax stepped up to the marble railing, his massive frame radiating

absolute authority. He wore a flawless black tuxedo that made his

broad shoulders look even more imposing. He had discarded his cane

tonight, his stride confident and unbroken, proving to his enemies

that the ambush hadn't weakened him. His cedar-and-smoke scent

instantly wrapped around me, a protective shield that pushed back the

aggressive pheromones of the crowd below.

"I feel like bait," I whispered back, keeping my eyes fixed on the

ballroom floor.

"You are not bait, Eva. You are the prize," Jax corrected, his large

hand sliding down to rest possessively on the small of my back. The

heat of his bare palm burned through the silk dress, anchoring me.

"Every man in this room wants a piece of my empire. And every woman

wants to sit on my throne. Hold your head up. Show them why they will

never have either."

Before I could reply, a sudden hush fell over the immediate circle

near the VIP lounge below the balcony. The crowd parted, making way

for a woman walking toward the stairs with deliberate, predatory

grace.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, with sharp, aristocratic features

and icy platinum hair styled into an elegant updo. Her sleek black

gown was trimmed with silver, matching the cold, metallic aura

radiating from her. Her scent hit the air like a winter frost—sharp,

bitter pine and frozen earth. She was a dominant Alpha, and she didn't

bother hiding it.

"Tatiana Romanov," Jax murmured, his grip on my waist tightening by a

fraction. His voice had lost its warm, teasing edge, replaced by a

cold, professional detachment.

"Who is she?" I asked, sensing the immediate shift in the room's temperature.

"The daughter of the Bratva’s highest-ranking council member," Jax

explained as the woman began ascending the marble stairs toward us.

"For three years, her father has been pushing for an alliance marriage

between Tatiana and myself to merge our territories. She believes my

throne belongs to her."

Tatiana reached the top of the stairs, her icy blue eyes bypassing Jax

entirely to lock onto me. Her gaze swept over my bare neck, my simple

hairstyle, and the ruby dress, bleeding with pure, unadulterated

contempt.

"Jax, darling," Tatiana purred, her voice like cracking ice as she

finally looked at him. "The entire council was thrilled to hear you

survived the Ivanov ambush. But imagine our shock when we arrived

tonight only to find the palace gates locked down for... this."

She gestured toward me with a manicured hand; her tone laced with mockery.

"Good evening, Tatiana," Jax said, his voice flat and devoid of

emotion. "If your father has concerns about my security protocols, he

can bring them to the war room tomorrow."

"Oh, it's not the security we're concerned about," Tatiana laughed

softly, stepping closer until she was standing directly in front of

me. She inhaled deeply, her nose twitching as she caught the faint,

lingering trace of my sweet citrus and rain scent. Her expression

twisted into a mask of pure jealousy. "An Omega. A common, gutter-born

stray from the docks, masquerading as royalty. Tell me, Jax, is the

Volkov lineage so desperate that you must claim a little pet who

doesn't even know how to hold her own scent?"

I flinched back slightly, the raw, aggressive winter-pine scent she

was throwing off making my head throb.

"Watch your tongue, Romanov," Jax warned, his voice dropping into a

dangerous, low rumble that shook the balcony.

But Tatiana was too blinded by pride and jealousy to heed the warning.

She stepped directly into my personal space, her hand snapping outward

to grab the delicate gold chain of my necklace, twisting it until the

metal bit into the back of my neck.

"Listen to me, you little parasite," Tatiana hissed, her face inches

from mine, her blue eyes flashing a lethal, dominant red. "You are a

temporary distraction. A breeding tool. The moment Jax realizes a

fragile thing like you can't survive the politics of this pack, he

will discard you. You will never be Queen of this city."

"Let go of me," I choked out, my hands flying up to grip her wrist, my

inner wolf screaming at the direct physical assault from a rival

Alpha.

She didn't get the chance to answer.

The air in the ballroom didn't just turn heavy; it fractured. Jax

didn't draw a weapon. He didn't need to. In a movement of pure,

terrifying violence, his hand shot forward, wrapping around Tatiana’s

throat with an iron, crushing grip.

He lifted her completely off her feet.

Tatiana’s champagne glass shattered against the marble floor as she

gasped for air, her manicured fingers scratching frantically at Jax's

wrist. Her icy composure vanished, replaced by absolute, paralyzing

terror as Jax slammed her back against the concrete pillar of the

balcony.

The entire ballroom below froze. The music stopped. Fifty hardened

killers looked up, watching their Pakman dismantle the daughter of the

high council.

Jax stepped into her space, his face inches from her suffocating

features. His eyes weren't just dark; they were a void of pure,

animalistic rage. His Alpha aura exploded outward with such crushing

force that several people in the foyer below literally dropped to

their knees, unable to handle the secondary wave of his dominance.

"I gave you a warning, Tatiana," Jax growled, his voice a demonic,

guttural rasp that echoed off the high ceilings. "You touched what is

mine. You threatened my Queen. In my house. In front of my pack."

"J-Jax..." Tatiana choked out, her face turning a dangerous shade of

purple as her heels dangled uselessly above the floor.

"If your father wasn't sitting on my council, your head would already

be rolling down these stairs," Jax whispered, his fingers tightening

just enough to make her gasp for air. "Hear me now, and hear me

well—every single one of you."

He turned his terrifying, lethal gaze down toward the crowded

ballroom, ensuring every capo and soldier heard his words.

"Eva is my mate. She is the Pakman’s choice. If anyone—man, woman,

ally, or enemy—so much as looks at her with disrespect, touches a

single hair on her head, or makes her feel unsafe in my territory, I

will not just kill you. I will erase your entire bloodline from the

history of this syndicate."

He turned back to Tatiana, his jaw tight. "Get out of my sight before

I forget who your father is."

He threw her away from him. Tatiana crashed to the marble floor,

coughing violently and clutching her bruised throat. Two terrified

Romanov bodyguards scrambled up the stairs, frantically picking her up

and dragging her shivering, humiliated form down the back exit of the

estate.

Jax stood on the balcony, his chest heaving as he reined in his inner

wolf. The room remained dead silent, the absolute terror of his power

holding everyone hostage.

He turned slowly back to me. The monstrous, bloodthirsty Pakman

vanished the moment his eyes landed on my face. He stepped closer, his

large, warm hands coming up to gently cup my cheeks. His thumbs

brushed away a stray tear I hadn't even realized had fallen.

"Did she hurt you, little bird?" he asked, his voice incredibly soft,

a stark contrast to the violence he had just unleashed. He checked my

neck, his fingers smoothing over the faint red line where the necklace

had pulled.

"I'm fine," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs, entirely

overwhelmed by the sheer scale of his possessiveness. He had just

threatened a war with his own council to protect me. "Jax... everyone

is watching."

"Let them watch," he murmured, leaning down until his lips brushed

against my forehead, marking me with his scent in front of his entire

empire. "Let them know exactly what happens when someone tries to

touch my Queen."

As the music slowly started playing again below, trying to mask the

tension, I felt a heavy vibration in my thigh.

The hidden burner phone.

I looked past Jax’s shoulder toward the shadows of the garden below.

Viktor’s faction was watching. Tatiana’s father would be furious. The

lines were drawn, and Jax had just proved he would burn the world for

me—which meant his enemies now knew exactly how to destroy him.

They just had to use me.