The letter arrived at dusk, sealed with the wax crest of Crimson Fang. Alpha Roman barely spared it a glance, tossing it onto the long dining table where half-eaten food and polished silverware gleamed under the chandelier’s glow.
“A useless invitation,” he muttered. “We have no reason to attend.”
Lilith, lounging lazily in her chair, didn’t even look up from where she was tracing the rim of her goblet. “Leon will choose Sasha. Everyone knows that.”
Luke, who had been silent for most of the meal, reached for the letter. His fingers skimmed the edges of the parchment before he broke the seal and read.
And then—his body locked up.
Lilith finally looked over, one brow raised as she caught the change in his expression. “What?”
Luke didn’t answer right away. His jaw tightened, and he swallowed once before speaking. “Celine’s name is on the list.”
The air in the room pulled tight. Lilith’s fingers froze where they rested against her goblet.
Across the table, their mother blinked—just once—but it carried the weight of disbelief. The kind that didn’t need words. “That’s not possible,” she said, too flat to be truly confused.
Luke didn’t look at her. His grip on the letter only tightened, knuckles pale against the parchment. “It is.”
No one moved.
The name sat between them now—unspoken, but everywhere. The girl they had erased, the one buried under years of silence and shame, suddenly dragged back into the center of everything.
Lilith’s nails scraped against the side of her goblet, slow and sharp. Metal against glass.
“She won’t win,” she said.
Luke stayed quiet. He was supposed to agree. Just nod, let it go.
But his eyes stayed fixed on the name, on the ink pressed into the page. And in the back of his mind, his wolf stirred—unsettled, pacing.
He pictured Celine standing at the ceremony. Standing beside Leon. She wasn’t supposed to be there. And yet, she was.
Lilith’s voice was like a blade, slicing through the room. “We’re not going.”
Luke finally tore his eyes from the letter, meeting her gaze. And for the first time in years, he disagreed with her.
“If she wins,” he said, slow, careful, “and we ignore this, what do you think will happen?” He let the words settle, let the reality of it crawl over Lilith’s skin. “You think she’ll forgive us?”
Lilith’s jaw tensed.
Luke leaned forward, pressing his advantage. “You think Leon will?”
That got her. Lilith hated Celine. But she loved power more. And losing an alliance with Crimson Fang? That was something she wouldn’t risk.
She turned to their father. “Fine, we should go.”
Roman sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. “If this is some desperate attempt on her part to feel important, I won’t entertain it.”
Lilith smiled, but there was nothing kind about it. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of entertaining it.”
Luke’s stomach twisted, because Lilith might have agreed to go, but he knew her too well. She wouldn’t allow Celine to stand above her. She wouldn’t allow the girl she had spent years crushing to rise higher than she ever could.
And if Luke had learned anything about Lilith, it was that she never let something like fate stand in her way.