There, just as she expected, a lone rider pulled in, the sleek black bike gliding to a stop.
A sad smile tugged at her lips.
She had been waiting for her.
---
Blaze was exhausted.
Every muscle in her body screamed in protest as she swung her leg over her bike, landing on shaky feet. The night had been long, grueling, and she was done.
Tucking her helmet under her arm, she dragged herself toward the servants' quarters, her heavy boots scuffing against the pavement.
Just as she reached the door, a familiar voice called out to her, soft and broken.
"Blazy…"
She turned, only to see Selene bolting toward her from the main house.
Before she could react, Selene flung herself into Blaze's arms, squeezing her so tight it nearly knocked the wind out of her.
Then, she broke.
Hot tears soaked Blaze's jacket as Selene sobbed into her shoulder, her entire body trembling.
Blaze frowned, gently prying Selene away to look at her.
"Selene, what's wrong?" she asked, concern threading through her voice.
Selene hiccupped, sniffing loudly. "My life is ruined," she choked out. "I'm doomed."
Blaze's frown deepened. Without another word, she wrapped an arm around Selene's shoulders and guided her toward her room in the servants' quarters.
---
The room was small, but cozy.
Golden fairy lights twinkled softly along the black-accented walls, casting a warm glow over the neatly arranged space. A plush black-and-gold bed sat against one corner, the comforter looking thick and inviting.
To the side, a sleek study table held a laptop and a neatly stacked pile of books, an armchair beside it, its cushions slightly worn but still comfortable. The scent of vanilla lingered in the air, mixing with the faint hint of leather from the black-and-gold rug underfoot.
It wasn't much, but it was hers.
Blaze led Selene to the bed, gently pushing her to sit on the edge.
"Alright," Blaze said, shrugging off her denim jacket and tossing it onto the armchair. She crossed her arms, leaning slightly against the desk. "Spit it out."
She arched a brow. "Did you do something stupid to Luka, and he dumped you? Or did he say something dumb that made you want to strangle him?"
Despite herself, Selene let out a wet laugh, shaking her head.
But the tears kept falling.
---
"I am so mad at you!" Selene huffed, her voice thick with frustration. "I tried calling you so many times, but you didn't pick up!"
Blaze sighed, plopping down beside her on the bed. She reached out and patted Selene's back. "Is that why you're crying?" she teased, trying to lighten the mood.
"No." Selene shook her head, her lip trembling. Then, in a quiet, broken whisper, she said, "I'm getting married tomorrow."
Blaze blinked. "Wow. That's… fast. Luka really doesn't have any patience, huh?" She forced a smile, nudging Selene playfully. "So… tears of joy?"
Selene didn't laugh. She didn't even react. Instead, her shoulders shook, and she buried her face in her hands, sobbing silently.
Blaze's smile faltered.
"Selene?"
"I'm being given away as a mistress," Selene choked out. "To some bloke I don't even know. If I refuse, there will be a war between his pack and the Devours."
Blaze shot up from the bed, her eyes wide.
"What?!"
Selene sniffled. "My stepfather—he's one of the leaders in the Supernatural Council, so you'd think he'd be powerful enough to fight him off, right?"
"Exactly!" Blaze threw her hands up, pacing the small space. "George has connections. He's not just some weakling who can be pushed around—why the hell is he rolling over like this?"
"He can't fight him, Blaze," Selene whispered, wiping at her tears. "That man has already taken down two packs. And not just any packs. The Blacks and the Clovers."
Blaze stopped pacing.
Her expression darkened.
"The Blacks and the Clovers?" she repeated, almost in disbelief.
Selene nodded. "The Blacks are ranked third in strength and power. The Clovers are fourth. And they both fell."
Blaze sank back down beside her. "You gotta be kidding me." She hesitated, then lowered her voice. "Have you seen this guy?"
Selene pulled out her phone with shaky hands, clicking on a file before handing it to Blaze.
"His name is Kieran Ruin," she murmured. "Twenty-six years old. He was never really talked about until recently, but now…"
Blaze scrolled through the file, her brows furrowing—until she reached his picture.
Then she let out a long, low whistle.
"Damn," she muttered. "I mean… damn. He's hot. Like, ridiculously hot. Hot-hot. Dangerous, bad-decision hot." She winked at Selene playfully. "Maybe this won't be so bad."
Selene glared at her.
"You don't get it, Blaze!" she snapped, her voice breaking. "I love Luka! And I don't want to end up like my mother—a mistress. I want to be someone's wife. Someone's one and only. Not a plaything."
Her chest heaved as fresh tears welled in her eyes.
Blaze sighed, her teasing demeanor fading.
She reached out and squeezed Selene's hand.
Running the other hand through her braids. She hated this. Selene was helpless. And worse—she was useless.
"What do I do?" Selene whispered, her voice breaking.
Blaze exhaled sharply, then leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Alright. Let's think. We need a plan."
Selene sniffled. "Like what? Running away?"
Blaze snapped her fingers. "Exactly! You run away. We grab a bag, fill it with cash, hop on my bike, and just—zoom." She made a dramatic motion with her hands, imitating an explosion. "Disappear."
Selene deadpanned. "Where exactly am I disappearing to?"
Blaze frowned. "Uh… Mexico?"
Selene rolled her eyes. "Blaze, what about my mother, she's gonna hear the news that I disappeared and get stressed up then too much of the stress and she dies, the doctor warned against stressing her remember?"
"Fine, fine, bad idea," Blaze grumbled. "What about… Luka? Maybe he can help."
Selene let out a dry laugh. "Oh sure, I'll just text him: Hey babe, crazy news! My family's selling me off as a mistress to some warlord. Help? XOXO."
Blaze snorted. "Okay, yeah. That sounds pathetic." She tapped her chin. "Alright, what if we fake your death?"
Selene blinked. "Excuse me?"
Blaze's eyes lit up, fully committed to the idea now. "Listen, we stage a tragic accident. You 'die,' everyone mourns, and boom—you start a new life under a fake identity."
Selene frowned. "How am I supposed to die?"
Blaze waved a hand. "I don't know. Drown in the lake? Get 'eaten' by rogues? Mysterious carriage accident?"
Selene groaned, flopping onto the bed. "You suck at plans."
Blaze flopped down beside her, staring at the ceiling. "Okay, fine. But you come up with something then, genius."
Selene bit her lip. Then, after a long pause, she muttered, "What if… I pretend to be cursed?"
Blaze turned her head slowly. "Cursed?"
"You know," Selene sat up, suddenly excited. "Like—haunted! Possessed! I'll start acting weird, speaking to myself, keep rolling my eyes—"
Blaze smirked. "So, your normal behavior?"
Selene threw a pillow at her. "I'm serious! If they think I'm cursed, they won't send me away. No one wants to marry a possessed mistress."
Blaze sat up, rubbing her chin. "That's actually… not the worst idea."
Selene's eyes brightened. "Really?"
"Yeah. But we gotta sell it." Blaze grinned wickedly. "And lucky for you, I happen to be an expert in causing mayhem."
Selene smiled for the first time that night. "So, I do it?"
Blaze smirked. "Oh, you should definitely do it."