The Alpha's 99 days surrogate

The gala of ghosts

The silver collar was a cold, heavy weight. As the warden fastened the hidden latch at the back of my neck, the click sounded like a prison door. She didn't look at me as she stepped back, her eyes checking for flaws in the black silk dress that clung to my body like oil.

"Keep your head down," she said, her voice quiet. "The King wants you seen, but he doesn't want you heard. You are the shadow in the room. If a guest asks for a drink, you give it. If they insult you, you swallow it. If you fail, your grandmother dies in her hospital bed. Do you understand?"

"I understand," I whispered. My voice felt small, scraped raw from the silence of the fortress.

The ballroom doors opened, and the noise hit me. It was the sound of a hundred Alphas and Lunas pretending to be human. The air smelled of expensive brandy, heavy perfume, and the cold, sharp smell of wax. This was the territory of the elite, and I was stepping into it with a target on my neck.

I took the silver tray, the weight of the crystal glasses making my wrists ache. I began to move through the crowd. I was a ghost in black silk, weaving between tailored suits and silk gowns. I saw the faces of the people I had grown up with. People who had called my father "friend" while they watched me get dragged into the mud.

Then, I saw him.

Jax was standing near the center of the room, his arm locked around Elara's waist. He looked powerful. He was laughing, showing off the white teeth that had once whispered promises against my ear. Elara was draped in diamonds, diamonds bought with the five million dollars my father had taken for my soul.

My father was right there beside them. He looked younger, the blood money had erased the stress of the Donovan bankruptcy from his account. He was holding a glass of brandy, leaning in to catch every word Jax said. They looked like a family. They looked like they had never had another daughter.

"Server," Jax barked.

He didn't even look at me. He just snapped his fingers toward the tray. I walked toward him, keeping my chin tucked so the jagged, sheared ends of my hair covered my face.

I held the tray out, the crystal glasses rattling against the silver.

"A bit slow on the uptake, isn't she?" Jax said, turning to the Alpha standing next to him. He looked at me, but his eyes didn't see Vespera. He saw a nameless servant with a silver collar. He saw a pet. "Look at this thing. The Blackwood Estate must be getting desperate if they are hiring helps this twitchy."

Elara let out a sharp, tinkling laugh. "She's a mess, Jax. Look at her hands. She is probably a runaway from some bottom-tier pack."

Jax reached for a glass, but his fingers stopped an inch from the crystal. A cruel, slow smile spread across his face. He didn't want the champagne. He wanted to feel the power of making someone crawl.

He reached over to a passing waiter and grabbed a glass of red wine.

"It is a shame to see such clean tiles," Jax said, raising his voice so the surrounding guests would listen. "And it is an even bigger shame to see a servant who thinks she can just blend in."

He tilted the glass.

The wine hit the top of my head in a cold, heavy rush. It poured over my shoulders, turning the black silk of my dress into a heavy, sodden weight.

The tray in my hands tilted. A glass of champagne shattered on the tiles.

A few Alphas nearby let out low whistles. Elara took a step back so the red wine wouldn't splash her white gown.

"There," Jax said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He reached out, his fingers grabbing my chin to force my head up. "Now you have a mark, little pet. Now everyone knows exactly..."

His voice died.

Jax froze, his hand still gripping my chin. He stared at my eyes. He stared at the jagged, cut hair framing my face. The smirk on his face slowly evaporated, replaced by a shock.

"Vespera?" he whispered.

Beside him, Elara's glass slipped from her hand, spilling onto her dress. She gasped, her eyes wide with horror as she looked at my silver collar. "No. It... it can't be."

Jax looked at my stomach, then back at my face, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. He was holding the very girl he had thrown into the dirt, the girl who was now carrying the King's bloodline. The shock in his eyes quickly turned to a defensive, ugly rage. The surrounding guests were starting to whisper, and he could feel his pride slipping.

"You think because you are carrying his spawn, you are something special?" Jax snarled, his face twisting. He raised his hand, his palm flat and ready to deliver a strike to put me back in my place. "Move, you useless..."

He swung his hand down.

I didn't flinch. I didn't close my eyes.

I reached up and caught his wrist in midair.

My fingers dug deep into his skin, my grip surprisingly tight, fueled by rage. I looked him dead in the eye for the first time.

"Don’t you dare," I said.

Jax's eyes widened. He tried to pull his arm back, but I didn't let go.

The people nearest to us fell silent, their conversations cutting off as they watched the Alpha of the Silver Moon pack get held in place by a servant.

My father took one step toward me, his hand reaching out as if to intervene.

Then he stopped.

The silence began to spread. It wasn't a sudden shock. It was like a cold draft creeping through a cracked window, settling block by block. The laughter in the corner died. The music slowed, the musicians lowering their instruments as they felt the temperature in the room drop.

Killian Blackwood walked into the ballroom.

Nobody had heard the doors open. He quietly walked across the room, wearing a dark suit, his gold eyes locked on us. The crowd stepped back as he approached, the quiet rippling outward until the entire hall was completely silent.

He stopped two feet away from us. He didn't say a word.

He looked at my hand holding Jax's wrist. Then, he looked at the red wine dripping from my hair.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a deep, dark blue handkerchief.

Slowly, the Lycan King dropped to one knee in the puddle of wine at my feet.