Mathilda

For three years, I scrubbed tables as a "wolfless runt," hiding my identity as the Lycan King's daughter.

It was a test for my fiancé, Alpha Connor. I wanted to see if he loved the girl, or just the crown.

He failed spectacularly tonight.

His mistress, Jaden, deliberately knocked a tray of drinks onto me during the dinner rush.

The liquid wasn't alcohol. It was concentrated silver.

My flesh hissed and bubbled as the poison ate through my skin, blocking any ability to heal.

I fell to the floor, clutching my melting hand, while Jaden faked tears and claimed I attacked her.

When Connor finally answered the video call, he saw my mangled hand. He smelled the burning flesh. He knew it was silver.

But he didn't help me.

He looked at his watch, annoyed that I was interrupting his business meeting with investors.

"Apologize to Jaden," he ordered, using his Alpha Command to crush me into submission.

"On your knees. Now."

The pain was blinding, but the betrayal cut deeper. He was forcing his Fated Mate to bow to the woman who tried to maim her.

My knees bent under the pressure, but my Royal blood refused to break.

I looked straight into the camera lens.

"No," I whispered.

I reached into my apron, bypassing the notepad, and pulled out a black satellite phone I hadn't touched in years.

"Code Black," I said to the King on the other end. "Send the Guard."

Connor thought he was disciplining a waitress.

He didn't know he just declared war on the Royal Family.

Chapter 1

Blake POV:

The tray in my hands felt heavier than usual, but not because of the champagne glasses. It was the weight of the lie I was living.

I adjusted my collar, making sure the small, flesh-colored patch on my neck was secure. Three years. That was the deal I made with my father. To live as a commoner, to let my late-blooming wolf stabilize away from the political vipers at court, and-foolishly-to see if my Fated Mate loved the girl, not the crown.

To the world, and specifically to the Shadow Creek Pack, I was Blake, the wolfless runt. A defect. An Omega who hadn't shifted at eighteen.

In reality, my inner wolf was pacing in the back of my mind, scratching at the mental walls I had built. She was a White Wolf, a creature of legend and royalty, the daughter of the Lycan King. But here, in the Velvet Lounge, I was just a waitress wiping tables.

Don't embarrass me tonight, Blake. We have investors coming. The Redstone deal is critical.

The voice echoed in my head, sharp and intrusive. Connor Bishop, the Alpha of Shadow Creek and my fiancé, sounded more stressed than usual. He'd been obsessed with these new "foreign investors" for weeks, ignoring the warnings from the border patrols about increased Rogue activity.

I'm doing my job, Connor, I replied, keeping my mental tone submissive. I'm invisible.