Chapter 3 Moonlight, Massages, and Murder-Wolves

The Blackthorn Pack's home wasn't what Cleo expected.

She had pictured something dark and medieval-stone castles, wolves howling in echo chambers, maybe a creepy butler named Igor. What she didn't expect was to be driven through a wrought-iron gate and into a forest that opened up to a literal mountain resort. Think: fancy yoga moms with thousand-dollar leggings, but with more fangs.

There was a valet. An actual valet. Wearing linen.

"Oh my God," Cleo whispered as they pulled up. "You guys live in a freaking werewolf Hilton."

"It's a wellness retreat," Luca said calmly, as if this explained everything.

"With a sauna," she pointed. "And a smoothie bar!"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize being a werewolf came with towel service."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "We're modern monsters."

Cleo was still staring at the building, which had sliding glass doors, a marble fountain shaped like a howling wolf, and a sign that read:

Welcome to Blackthorn Lodge - Recharge Your Inner Beast.

"I feel like I'm hallucinating," she muttered.

"You get used to it."

Inside, the lodge smelled like cedarwood, eucalyptus, and something faintly dangerous-like sex and secrets. Pack members bustled through the lobby wearing robes or running gear. One girl walked by with a towel on her head, texting and growling softly at someone over Bluetooth.

Cleo turned to Luca. "Are you sure this isn't just an aggressively themed influencer retreat?"

Before he could answer, a woman glided down the grand staircase like a queen descending into battle. She wore an emerald green silk robe, gold heels, and a scowl sharp enough to slice a watermelon.

"Luca," she said, voice smooth as venom. "You brought her."

Cleo immediately disliked her.

"And you are?" Cleo asked, plastering on a customer-service smile that meant: Back off, lady.

"Celeste," the woman replied, looking Cleo up and down like she was a thrift store mannequin. "Luca's betrothed."

"Ex-betrothed," Luca corrected. "The council dissolved it."

"Only because you threw a chair at them," Celeste said sweetly.

"They were being unreasonable."

"They were holding a vote."

"With silver ballots."

Celeste turned back to Cleo. "Let me guess-you're the fated mate who ran him over with a scooter?"

Cleo crossed her arms. "I prefer 'accidental soulmate by high-speed collision,' but sure."

Celeste sniffed. "You smell like mango and sarcasm."

Cleo beamed. "Aw, you noticed."

Celeste hissed-literally hissed-and then stalked away, silk robe billowing like a villain's cape.

Luca looked apologetic. "She's a lot."

"She's a soap opera in human form."

"She teaches spin class on Tuesdays."

"Oh God."

They rode a glass elevator up to the top floor. Luca led her to a corner suite, opened the door, and gestured dramatically. "Welcome to your temporary sanctuary."

The room was huge-vaulted ceilings, soft lighting, a bed big enough for four emotional support animals, and a view of a lake that sparkled under the moon like it was flirting with the stars. Cleo stepped inside, stunned.

"Okay," she said slowly, "this is... weirdly romantic."

Luca shut the door behind them and dropped her bag on the bed. "It's the alpha suite. Comes with a personal butler, mood lighting, and three emergency escape routes in case of rogue vampire attacks."

Cleo flopped onto the bed. "I may be a danger-magnet, but I could get used to this."

There was a knock at the door.

A tall man with silver-streaked hair and disturbingly bright blue eyes stepped in. He was wearing a butler's uniform that looked like it had been stolen from a James Bond villain's closet.

"Ms. Marsden," he said in a crisp British accent. "I'm Henry, your personal handler."

"Handler?" she echoed. "Am I a zoo animal now?"

"Only metaphorically," Henry replied. "Shall I book you a calming full-moon massage or a tactical knife lesson with the beta wolves?"

Cleo blinked. "Is this a real place or am I in a supernatural fever dream?"

"Little of both," Luca said. "Henry, get her something from the kitchen. She likes mango."

"Obviously," Henry said with a bow and disappeared.

Cleo turned to Luca. "Okay, so-aside from Celeste trying to murder me with her eyes, and the fact that I might turn furry-what exactly is the plan here?"

Luca sat on the arm of the couch, his face serious now. "We're under threat."

"From what?"

"Rogue packs. Other supernatural clans. People who want to exploit the bond. You and I are rare."

"I mean, I am fabulous."

"I'm serious. Fated bonds are powerful. If someone severs ours before it's complete..."

"What happens?"

"You'll die."

Cleo sat up straighter. "Right. That's comforting."

He gave her a look. "This is why we need to train you. Introduce you to the council. Make it official."

"Official?"

He nodded. "Tomorrow night, we host a full moon gathering. You'll be presented as the Alpha's mate."

"...Do I get a crown?"

Luca stared.

She grinned. "I'm kidding."

She wasn't kidding.