Chapter 5

Sybilla's POV

I stared at my reflection in the vanity mirror, my hands trembling as I attempted to apply mascara for the third time. The black paste smudged under my lower lids, making me look like a raccoon.

“Fuck,” I muttered, grabbing a makeup wipe to clean it off.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow at 8 a.m., I would be sitting in some car, being driven off to start my new life—what kind of life? A concubine? A sex slave? No matter what polished corporate name Silver Moon Group gave it, the reality was the same.

I would be owned.

The thought twisted my stomach into knots. I had always envisioned my future filled with designer clothes, charity galas, and marrying some wealthy businessman who would worship me. Not being handed over to some werewolf Alpha like a piece of property.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Kieran’s name flashed on the screen.

I almost didn’t answer. After the disaster today, after Isolde found out about us and everything blew up, I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with him right now. But curiosity got the better of me.

“What do you want?” I answered, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

“Hey, Sybilla.” His voice was rough, like he’d been drinking. “I know today was a mess, but… can I see you?”

“See me? Kieran, in case you forgot, I’m being shipped off tomorrow morning to become a sex toy. I’m really not in the mood to socialize.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see you,” he said, a note of desperation in his voice. “This might be our last chance.”

I frowned, sinking onto the bed. “Last chance to do what?”

“To be together. Really together. To…” His voice trailed off, but I knew what he meant.

“You want to fuck me the night before I’m sent to some goddamn harem?” I laughed, but it sounded hollow. “That’s so fucked up, even for you.”

“Come on, Sybilla. We’ve been at this for so long. All those crazy nights, all that passion… don’t you want to feel it one more time? One last time?”

I closed my eyes, my mind racing. The truth was, Kieran and I had crossed that line long ago. Our affair had been fueled by passion from the start—those stolen nights when no one suspected, our bodies already knowing every inch of each other. The thrill was in the secrecy, in the taboo nature of it, but more than that, it was raw, primal desire.

“I don’t know,” I said softly. “It feels wrong. Tomorrow I’ll be—”

“Tomorrow you’ll belong to someone else,” he cut me off. “But tonight, you’re still mine. You can still choose.”

Still choose. Those words hit me harder than I expected. Because he was right, wasn’t he? After tomorrow, I wouldn’t have a choice anymore. I’d be at the mercy of some one who bought me as a prize.

“Where?” I heard myself ask.

“My place. My roommate’s out of town this week.”

I bit my lip, looking around my perfectly decorated bedroom. After tomorrow, I’d never see this room again. Never sleep in my own bed, never wake up to the view of the garden my mother designed.

“Sybilla? You still there?”

“Yeah,” I said finally. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“So?”

I thought of Isolde, probably packing her bags now. I thought of the way she looked at me earlier, like I was some kind of monster for sleeping with her boyfriend. But she never wanted him, did she? She kept him at arm’s length for two years, never letting him touch her.

At least I made him feel needed.

“Fine,” I said quietly. “But that’s it, Kieran. After tonight, we’re done.”

“Of course. I just… I need to see you. One last time.”

An hour later, I stood outside Kieran’s apartment building, my heart pounding in my chest. I wore a simple black dress and heels, not wanting to look like I was trying too hard, but also not wanting to look like I didn’t care.

Because despite everything, despite the mess we’d made, I did care about him. Maybe not love—I wasn’t sure I was capable of that deep emotion—but I cared.

Kieran opened the door immediately, like he’d been waiting right by it. He looked rough, hair messy, eyes slightly glazed from whatever he’d been drinking.

“You came,” he said, relief evident in his voice.

“Don’t make me regret it,” I replied, stepping inside.

His apartment was as I expected—masculine, minimally decorated, the kind of place a guy in his twenties would have. Decent, but not impressive.

“Drink?” he offered, gesturing toward the kitchen.

“Sure.”

He poured us some liquor, and we sat on his couch, the tension between us so thick you could cut it with a knife. I could feel his eyes on me, studying my face like he was trying to memorize it.

“Are you scared?” he asked suddenly.

The question caught me off guard. “About tomorrow?”

He nodded.

I took a sip of my drink, considering my answer. “Scared shitless,” I admitted. “I don’t know what they’ll expect from me. I don’t know if I’m good enough, or pretty enough, or… enough of anything.”

“You’re perfect,” Kieran said softly, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”

“Even an Alpha who can have anyone he wants?”

“Especially him.”

His fingers lingered on my cheek, and I felt that familiar flutter in my stomach. The same feeling I had the first time he kissed me, that burning desire starting to build inside me.

“Sybilla,” he murmured, leaning closer.

“This is insane,” I whispered, but I didn’t pull away.

“Maybe. But everything about today is insane.”