Josephine
I stood near the edge of the room, the borrowed gown strangling my ribs, its silk a lie against my skin. I didn't belong here, not among these wolves in human flesh, their smiles sharp as fangs. But I'd clawed my way in, and I wasn't leaving empty-handed.
Fred shuffled over, his broad shoulders hunched like a dog caught chewing the master's boots. "Sorry, Miss Curran," he mumbled, eyes on the floor. "Alpha has asked me to drive you home."
The words hit like a fist to the gut. I stared at him, my pulse a dull thud in my ears. Lucas had chosen her. Leila. That b***h. I turned my head, slow as a predator tracking prey, and there she was - standing among the rich and the famous, a champagne flute cradled in her delicate hand. She sipped it with a grace that made my stomach churn,
