Phantom Thread

Valentina's POV

I stare at the message on my phone, cursing under my breath. The digital clock on my nightstand reads 10:47 AM. Sunday. My one sacred day of rest.

Emergency at Harrison pack. Car arriving in 30 minutes. Pack essentials. -Victoria

Victoria texting me? The woman who's spent the last decade pretending I don't exist? This can't be good.

I call her immediately, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Is my father dying?" I demand when she answers, not bothering with pleasantries.

"Not yet," Victoria's clipped voice responds. "But if you don't get here within three hours, that might change. The driver knows the fastest route."

The line goes dead before I can ask anything else. Typical.

I should clarify—I don't call Alpha Harrison "father." He lost that title the day my mother was buried. Now he's just Mr. Harrison, the man who shares my blood but abandoned me for his perfect purebred family.

Still, I'm not heartless. I throw essential items into a duffel bag and rush to shower. Whatever this emergency is, it must be serious for Victoria to break her self-imposed "Valentina doesn't exist" policy.

Great Goddess, keep them safe, I think, surprising myself with the prayer. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

Two and a half hours later, I cross the territory line into my birth pack. The sensation is strange—like walking into a childhood home now occupied by strangers. I dismissed the driver at the border, preferring to approach on foot. As a martial arts instructor with a reputation to maintain, I refuse to arrive looking like someone's summoned servant.

The pack hasn't changed much. Same rustic buildings nestled among towering pines. Same suspicious glances from passing wolves who can smell the vampire half of my hybrid nature. I've learned to ignore their disdain. My life in the human world has taught me that respect is earned through strength, not bloodlines.

As I approach the main pack house, voices drift through the open windows. One in particular—deep, commanding, and absolutely furious—makes me pause.

"This is beyond insulting!" the male voice thunders. "My pack traveled three days for this alliance. The ceremony was prepared, guests assembled from seven territories, and your daughter simply vanishes? Do you have any concept of the humiliation my family now faces?"

I edge closer, curiosity overriding my better judgment.

"Alpha Sanders, please understand," Mr. Harrison's voice sounds desperate. "Penelope left no explanation. We're as shocked as you are."

"Shocked? You should be mortified! Every Alpha in the region will hear how the Harrison pack treats sacred commitments. My mate—gone. The alliance—in shambles."

"Not necessarily," Victoria interjects smoothly. "We have... an alternative solution."

"What alternative could possibly—"

"My stepdaughter," Victoria says. "Who also happens to be Harrison's firstborn."

I freeze, the implications hitting me like a freight train. No. They wouldn't dare.

"And she's already here," Victoria adds.

Damn their supernatural senses. I consider bolting, but before I can move, two guards materialize behind me. Their expressions make it clear—forward is my only option.

I square my shoulders and step into the room. Five pairs of eyes turn to me, but only one gaze locks with mine and sends an unexpected shiver down my spine.

He's magnificent in the most dangerous way possible. Tall—at least six-four—with shoulders broad enough to cast shadows. His face seems carved from marble: sharp jawline, aristocratic nose, and eyes that shift between steel-gray and arctic blue as emotions cross his features. His dark hair, nearly black, is styled in a way that suggests he ran frustrated hands through it repeatedly.

For a moment, neither of us speaks. Something electric passes between us, a current I've never felt before.

"Alpha Ashton Sanders," Mr. Harrison breaks the silence, "may I present my elder daughter, Valentina."

Ashton's eyes widen slightly as he registers my introduction. I know what he's thinking. I've seen that look countless times.

How can an Alpha's daughter be half-vampire?

His gaze travels from my face down to my combat boots and back up again, assessing. Then, to my absolute shock, he says, "I'll take her instead."

The room falls silent. Victoria looks smugly satisfied. Mr. Harrison appears relieved. And I—I'm speechless with rage.

"Take me?" I finally manage. "Like some consolation prize?"

Ashton raises an eyebrow. "The wedding proceeds today as planned. The bride has changed, that's all."

"That's all?" I laugh, the sound sharp and humorless. "Let me be perfectly clear: I am not marrying you or any Alpha. Not today. Not ever."

"You refuse?" His tone suggests no one has ever dared speak to him this way.

"Categorically." I turn to leave, but Ashton moves with supernatural speed, blocking my path.

"You don't understand what's at stake," he says, voice lowered. "This isn't just about two packs. This is about regional stability."

"Your political problems aren't mine," I reply coldly. "Find another solution."

"There isn't one." He steps closer, and I catch his scent—pine, winter air, and something uniquely him that makes my pulse quicken traitorously. "Without this union, our territories become vulnerable to the Northern Alliance. They've been waiting for any sign of weakness."

"Again, not my problem."

His eyes darken. "It becomes your problem when I declare blood feud against your father's pack for this insult."

I stare at him, incredulous. "Are you actually threatening war because I won't marry a stranger?"

"I'm stating consequences," he corrects, his voice dangerously soft. "Actions have them."

Something compels me to stand my ground rather than step back, bringing us close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him. "Blackmail isn't an attractive quality in a potential husband."

"Neither is stubbornness in a potential wife," he counters.

Before I can think better of it, I poke his chest with my index finger. "I am not your—"

The moment my skin touches him, a jolt of electricity shoots up my arm. The sensation is so unexpected, so intense, that I gasp. Ashton looks equally stunned, his eyes widening as they lock with mine.

What was that? Some kind of static shock? But the tingling doesn't fade—it spreads, warming my blood and making my heart race. For a moment, I forget where we are, what we're arguing about.

Ashton recovers first, his expression shifting from surprise to something calculating. A slow, dangerous smile curves his lips.

"Interesting," he murmurs, just for me to hear.

I snatch my hand back, unnerved. "That doesn't change anything."

"On the contrary," he says, louder now. "It changes everything." He turns to address Mr. Harrison. "The ceremony proceeds at sunset. Either with your daughter as my bride, or with my pack at your borders."

"You can't be serious," I protest.

"Deadly." His eyes meet mine again. "You have two hours to decide, Valentina. Become my Luna, or watch your family's pack face extinction."

With that ultimatum hanging in the air, he strides from the room, his guards falling in behind him.

I stand there, shaking with fury and something else I refuse to name. Who does he think he is? Some god-king whose commands I should obey without question?

Yet I can't forget that spark when we touched. It felt like... recognition. Like something in me knew something in him.

No. I won't be manipulated, not even by my own biology. I've built my life on my terms, away from pack politics and supernatural drama. I won't surrender my freedom for a man who sees me as nothing but a convenient solution to his problems.

Even if that man makes my heart race in ways no one ever has before.

#TBC