Siena’s POV
The next day dawns crips and clear, the air buzzes with the fever of anticipation. Today marks the start of the first competition, and I can feel the weight of expectation pressing against my lip.
I refuse to let it shake me.
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Standing before the full–length mirror, adjusting the deep emerald fabric that clings to my body like a second skin. The dress is exquisite–sleek, elegant, commanding attention without begging for it. It dips low at the back, exposing the smooth expanse of my spine, a contrast to the modest neckline that hints at mystery rather than indulgence. The fabric shimmers under the light, an almost liquid sheen that moves when I do.
“You’re going to dazzle everyone today,” my best friend says, stepping back to admire her work. She’s outdone herself with the styling–soft waves cascade down my shoulders, my makeup bold but precise, enhancing rather than masking. The look is one of effortless power, and I embrace it.
I breathe in deeply. “That’s the plan.”
She arches a brow. “Not meeting Raiden first?”
I shake my head, reaching for my clutch. “My phone’s dead–coffee accident last night. Besides, I’m sure he’ll manage.”
Her lips purse slightly, but she doesn’t press.
My assistant arrives promptly, guiding me into the sleek black car waiting outside. The city hums around us, but I barely notice the traffic, my mind already at the venue. By the time we pull up, I’m just on time.
Raiden stands at the entrance, arms crossed, his dark gaze scanning the crowd. He spots me immediately, his expression flickering from displeasure to something unreadable. His stance stiffens, and for a fraction of a second, he’s completely still.
And then the moment passes.
I step onto the pavement, and the reaction is almost instant. Conversations falter, eyes trail after me, admiration thick in the air. Flashbulbs flicker as reporters capture the moment. I can feel their silent approval, their whispered commentary–she looks stunning.
Raiden’s eyes darken. His jaw tightens as his gaze sweeps over the dress, lingering on the bare skin of my back. Without a word, he shrugs off his jacket and swings it over my shoulders, his grip firm. The scent of leather and cedarwood envelops
- me.
“This dress doesn’t meet Luna standards,” he mutters, his tone clipped.
I blink up at him. “Is that so?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he straightens, schooling his face into a picture of detached authority, and places a guiding hand on my back. His touch is warm, but his irritation radiates like a low–burning fire. The cameras love it–the perfect image of a devoted husband shielding his Luna from the world.
But I know better.
We walk forward, smiling as we pass the media, playing our parts seamlessly. But beneath the polished facade, the tension crackles.
“You’re being childish,” I whisper between gritted teeth.
“And you’re being reckless,” he counters just as quietly.
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08:36 Sun, 20 Apr
Chapter 20
“It’s just a dress.”
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“It’s not just a dress. His fingers press lightly against my back, just above where the fabric dips. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
I bite back a smirk. “Do I?”
He exhales sharply, but before he can reply, we step inside the grand hall. The moment we cross the threshold, he withdraws, his attention immediately drawn to the other Alphas in attendance. He doesn’t hesitate before moving toward them, the pull of duty stronger than whatever lingering irritation he holds toward me.
I barely have time to process this before a familiar, unwelcome voice slithers into my ear.
“How amusing. The infamous flower vase Luna actually thinks she belongs here.”
Lila.
I turn slowly, finding her poised with arms crossed, her smirk sharp enough to cut. Her eyes flick to me, then to the space where Raiden had been, a glint of triumph in their depths.
“I heard you submitted a proposal,” she continues, her tone dripping with mockery. “A woman who can’t even earn her husband’s love–what could she possibly have to offer?”
I say nothing. Not because her words sting, but because they don’t. Silence, I’ve learned, is often the sharpest weapon.
She waits, expecting a reaction. When none comes, her confidence falters just slightly. But then, as if realizing she’s losing ground, she squares her shoulders and delivers her final blow.
“You still don’t know, do you?” she murmurs, her voice just loud enough for me to hear.
I finally meet her gaze, my brows drawing together.
Lila smiles. Slowly, purposefully, she tilts her head and shifts her hair to the side. And there it is–a mark on her neck, faint but unmistakable.
My breath catches. The world tilts slightly, and for a moment, everything around us fades into the background.
Lila smirks, basking in my reaction. “This is the mark our king, Raiden, left on me.”
The words settle into my bones like ice. Cold. Sharp. Unforgiving.
I want to say she’s lying. That it’s a trick, a desperate attempt to get under my skin. But the evidence is there, clear as day.
Raiden marked her.
My throat tightens, but I force my expression to remain neutral. I won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me unravel.
So I smile instead.
“You seem awfully proud of something that required zero effort on your part,” I say coolly.
Lila’s smirk falters for just a second–just long enough for me to see it. And then, without another word, I turn on my heel and walk away, even as my mind screams for answers.
Raiden.
He was with her. He put his mark on her.
The dress suddenly feels suffocating. The weight of his jacket, still draped over my shoulders, is unbearable.
OHIO SUN, 20 Apr 5
Chapter 20
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I pull it off as I step deeper into the hall, my movements measured, my face unreadable. The competition is about to begin, and I have no choice but to play my role.
But the storm inside me has already begun to brew.
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