Chapter 1: The Girl Who Left
2000 Words
Selene’s Point of View
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Selene Marrow did not flinch when the glass shattered three feet from her head.
She turned, slow and calm, while the two guards behind her scrambled for their weapons.
It was just a bottle, thrown by a drunk trader who hated being told his cargo was fake.
"Pick it up," Selene said. Her voice was flat, not loud.
"Then get out of my warehouse."
The man's friends pulled him back before he could argue. Nobody argued with Selene Marrow twice.
She watched them go, arms crossed, copper braid falling over one shoulder.
"You scared him more than the bottle did," said Nadia, walking up beside her, grinning.
"You know you could have just allowed the guards handle it."
"I like handling things myself.”
Nadia Corvane laughed and looped her arm through Selene's, pulling her toward the office at the back of the warehouse.
Nadia was the only daughter of House Corvane, heir to the biggest trade house in the city, and Selene's best friend since the night three years ago when a half-starved, shaking wolf girl showed up at the trade docks with nothing but the clothes on her back.
Nadia never asked what Selene ran from. She just gave her a job.
Inside the office, Selene dropped into her chair and rubbed her eyes. Head of Security was not a title she had asked for. It found her, the same way most good things in her life now did quietly, without fanfare, because she had earned it.
"You look tired," Nadia said.
"I am always tired. It is part of the job."
"You are allowed to rest, you know, once in a while."
Selene almost smiled. "Rest is for people who don't have three shipments going missing a month."
Nadia's smile faded a little. "Speaking of problems," she dropped a folder on the desk.
"My father wants you in the meeting room."
"Now?" She asked.
"Now."
Selene did not like the word “now”. Now meant something had already gone wrong before anyone told her about it.
The meeting room at House Corvane was built for exactly this, for outsiders to feel small and Corvane to feel powerful. High ceilings, dark wood, a long table polished so well it looked wet.
Selene stepped in a step behind Nadia's father, Lord Corvane, and stopped breathing.
There were three strangers seated at the table already. Two she did not know, they were hard-faced men in traveling leathers, looking like wolves from the way they held themselves, alert and territorial even sitting down. The third one she knew with every cell in her body.
Kade Ashveil sat with his back straight and his hands folded, like he still had a right to sit like that. Older, leaner, in a way that spoke of hard seasons, not training. A fresh scar cut along his jaw that had not been there before. His storm-grey eyes moved over the room the way an Alpha's eyes always did until they landed on her.
He didn't recognize her.
For one full breath, Selene watched the man who had ended her in front of three hundred witnesses look straight through her like she was furniture.
Good, she thought. Stay that way.
"Selene," Lord Corvane said, "this is Kade Ashveil, formerly of the Ashveil Pack. He is requesting neutral ground and trade protection under Corvane's banner."
“Formerly,” she said.
That word did something to the room. Selene watched Kade's jaw tighten at it, like it cost him something every time someone said it out loud.
"Head of Security," Lord Corvane continued, gesturing at her.
"She will be assessing what protection would require."
Kade finally looked at her properly. He really looked at her like someone who couldn't believe what he saw and heard.
Selene held perfectly still, the way she had trained herself to hold still under pressure, under threat or under anything.
His eyes narrowed slightly confused like a word was sitting on the tip of his tongue and he couldn't place it.
"Have we met?" he asked.
Selene's heart slammed once, hard, against her ribs.
"No," she said with a stable voice. She was proud of that.
"I do not think so."
She sat down across from him, because that was her job, and opened the folder Nadia had given her, and did not look up again for the rest of the meeting.
But under the table, her hands were shaking, and the old mark on her collarbone burned like it had been freshly cut.
Because the bond does not lie, even when the mind does.
And somewhere under his ribs, though he did not understand why yet, Kade Ashveil felt it too.
- Writer
