"Alright," he sighed against the inside of my neck, "We're different, night and day, blood and water, gold and dust," I could feel his fingers crouch up my thigh, approaching my most secret place, "but there's one thing we both bond over," he kissed my heaving chest, and I could hear his smirk when he murmured, "Hate, Ayra, Hate...."

***

"Ayra, you don't have to be so uptight," Nia, my wolf, told me as we watched the people adding in numbers with every second passing, standing before us, giving me hateful glances.

Disdain and also uncertainty in their eyes.

Well, they still weren't making me sweat and shake profusely; they weren't the one, even in their heat, that was about to make my knees give way.

The reason for that was on his way, moving the dark forces from Umbria to Italy.

The reason I had not laid eyes on for the past fifteen years.

I stared at the entrance of the large room, gulping in terror; a priestess was not supposed to feel fear. When a priestess did, it was the beginning of her end.

"Priestess Ayra," the impatient baritone suddenly hit me, and I turned, looking up at the Alpha's firstborn, his blue so innocent and captivating that it would have won a point from me if I wasn't the hands of the moon goddess.

I was a priestess, a priestess at the forefront of purity and mental health; I was the helping hand to any Alpha, for on that seat of power, they suffered the plagues of Demkon, the God of terror, and then the cleansing ritual had to commence

But aside from that, there came another core responsibility. The Priestess, Although false, was said to choose the next Alpha, according to the moon goddess's instruction, but far from that.

The Alpha was in charge of choosing which of his sons was to take over from him as leader of the Park and whispered it into the ears of the Priestess; then the Priestess announced it as the moon goddess's instruction.

Now, this was the best part: the rejected son or sons, instead of their fathers, get their anger directed at the Priestess and boom, another Priestess ends up dead. And the next girl brought from an orphanage and trained not to feel pain, filled her space, and the cycle continued.

Except this time, Alpha Martinelli never whispered a word about whom his predecessor would be among his two sons.

Shot in the back of his head during a raid, I closed his eyes after his death. The realization that I didn't know who the future leader would be bugging me. And also the thought that I was going to die.

Kane cleared his throat beside me, and I returned my attention to him, raising my chin so he didn't see the fear clouding my eyes.

Among the beautiful neon lights of candles shining against glasses and the people's and the people's eyes, my mind was on one person; I looked at the door again.

"It's been two weeks since Father was buried, Ayra-" Only he called me by my name because we were childhood friends, "when are you going to announce the next in line."

His voice faded out, and all I could see was his mouth moving, sensual, just like his fathers, especially when they smiled, making one forget the worries of this world.

Quite the opposite of what I should feel for an Alpha, with their heart darker than the hairs on their heads.

How did I know? Well, as a Ruka, I was like a therapist to a Don.

But Kane was something else, a figure of softness and empathy which most Alpha's lacked, with a heart just as beautiful as his face; despite being a Priestess who was forever tagged never to have a mate, I had the biggest crush on him.

A feeling I strangled until I could control.

I raised the hem of my white gown on the floor for no just reason than to find what to do with my hands; I looked into the eyes bluer than the waters of Sardinia and spoke my words, which were almost law...

"Kaida shouldn't be rushed."

He grimaced because that was the only word he had heard from me since his father died. Kane was a sweetheart, standing at 6.1. He had the softest eyes for me, and right now, I drowned in its pity.

About saying something snappy and power-filled to clear the pity his eyes held, chin in the air, I parted my lips to speak when the roar from outside the courtroom hit me straight to the guts.

I almost doubled over.

I froze, my eyes falling on the scar on Kane's forehead, but still not seeing it, my fingers gripped my gown, pressing into my skin; I felt the warm, silky liquid rubbing against my thumb and the sharp pain from the opened skin and knew what I had just done.

The roars had turned into mutters and gasps filled the courtroom.

And as if programmed, I shifted my gaze to the gates while he made an entrance.

Fifteen years, and I still have not forgotten that gray, almost turning white pupils, fifteen years and that poised figure that held all the ego in the world stuck in my memory.

Fifteen years, and he still held the habit of flexing his fingers.

But something changed in all of those fifteen years, and I saw it when he stood at the center of the room with a slight smile playing on his lips.

It was the darkness he brought with him.

Knight Martinelli, Alpha's second son, was back.

I shrunk into myself.