AUBREY

I lie in the darkness, staring at the ceiling as moonlight filters through the gossamer curtains. Sleep refuses to come, my mind churning with Lina's devastating revelations about the possibility that Jax might have manipulated my memories.

What if everything I believed could be a lie?

The thought makes my stomach clench with nausea. Even though nothing has been confirmed, even though we don't know for certain, just the possibility that my memories of that night, my loyalty to Jax, even my burning need for revenge could all be manufactured—it's terrifying beyond words.

I turn restlessly in the massive bed, and my movement wakes Knox. His arm tightens around my waist as he stirs, pulling me closer against his warm chest.

"Can't sleep?" His voice is rough with drowsiness, concern already creeping in as he senses my distress.

"I'm sorry I woke you," I whisper, but I'm not sorry at all. Right now, I need his warmth, his solid presence, the reality of his touch to anchor me to something true.

Knox shifts to face me in the darkness, his green eyes catching the moonlight. "What's wrong? You've been tense all evening."

Instead of answering with words, I press my lips to his. The kiss is desperate, hungry, filled with all the confusion and fear I can't voice. I need this—need him—need something real and untainted by lies.

Knox responds immediately, his hands tangling in my hair as he deepens the kiss. There's no hesitation, no careful distance—just the raw honesty of two people who need each other.

"Aubrey," he breathes against my mouth, but I silence him with another kiss.

My hands map the familiar planes of his chest, relearning every scar, every defined muscle. When my fingers trace the line of dark hair leading down from his navel, Knox groans softly.

"Are you sure?" he asks, his voice strained with desire and concern.

"I'm sure," I whisper, pulling him closer. "I need you, Knox. I need this to be real."

His mouth finds my throat, pressing heated kisses along the sensitive skin while his hands worship my body with reverent care. Every touch sends fire racing through my veins, burning away the doubt and confusion until there's nothing but sensation.

When he finally thrust into me, moving with exquisite tenderness, I lose myself completely in the feeling of being whole. This is real. This connection, this overwhelming love that floods my chest when he whispers my name—this can't be manufactured or manipulated.

"I love you," Knox breathes against my ear as we move together in perfect rhythm. "God, Aubrey, I love you so much."

The words crash over me like a revelation. He loves me. Not because of magical bonds or mystical connections, but because of who I am beneath all the lies and manipulation.

As pleasure builds between us, cresting in waves that leave us both breathless and clinging to each other, one truth crystallizes with perfect clarity:

I'm going to tell him everything on our wedding night.

Whatever the consequences, whatever pain it causes, Knox deserves the truth. He deserves to know who he's really marrying, what threats we're facing, and why I've been living a lie.

JAX

I grip the bloodstained whip tighter, satisfaction warming my chest as I admire the fresh wounds decorating Nora's pale skin. The silver-tipped leather has left deep, angry welts across her back and shoulders, some already broken open and seeping crimson. This has become my favorite part of each day—watching the once-proud female Alpha reduced to this broken, chained thing in my underground chamber.

The metallic scent of blood mingles with the damp stone walls, creating an intoxicating perfume of domination. Each mark I've carved into her flesh is a testament to my power, a reminder that even the strongest wolves bow before superior intellect and planning.

Nora lifts her head with tremendous effort, her amber eyes blazing with defiance despite the agony I know courses through every nerve. When she speaks, her voice drips with mockery that makes my jaw clench.

"You're nothing but a coward," she sneers, spitting blood onto the stone floor. "Hiding behind whips and chains instead of facing me as an equal. Is this how you plan to win your war? Through torture and deception?"

Her words strike exactly where she intends—at my pride, my methods, everything I've built my reputation on. The familiar rage builds in my chest like molten lava, demanding satisfaction.

I stalk closer, my boots echoing against wet stone, and grab her chin roughly. My fingers dig into her bruised flesh as I force her to meet my gaze, enjoying the way she flinches despite her bravado.

"Your pack doesn't even know their precious Alpha has been replaced," I purr, my lips curving into a cruel smile. "They follow my orders through Avery's impersonation like obedient sheep, bleating happily as they march toward slaughter. How does it feel, knowing your own people can't tell the difference between you and a magical puppet?"

The pain that flashes across Nora's features feeds something dark and hungry inside me. Her pack's complete ignorance of their situation proves the brilliance of my strategy—why fight when manipulation accomplishes so much more?

The heavy door creaks open behind me, and Avery's distinctive scent fills the chamber—jasmine and magic, with undertones of the illusion she maintains. I don't turn around, but I sense her presence like a familiar shadow.

When I finally glance over my shoulder, Avery stands in the doorway wearing Nora's face with perfect precision. Every detail is flawless—the auburn hair, the strong jawline, even the scent that would fool any werewolf nose. But her eyes betray her. While Nora's burn with defiant fire, Avery's hold the cold calculation of a predator.

Those violet eyes flicker between my hand on Nora's chin and the intimate proximity of our bodies. Jealousy flashes across her borrowed features so quickly another might miss it, but I catch every nuance. The possessiveness she tries to hide behind professional composure amuses me greatly.

Releasing Nora with deliberate slowness, I turn toward Avery with a smile that acknowledges what I've seen. Her reaction is exactly what I expected—and exactly what I can use to my advantage.

"Excellent work," I tell her, letting appreciation color my voice as I approach. "The Crescent Moon Pack hasn't suspected a thing. You've maintained the illusion perfectly."

Avery's expression shifts, the jealousy replaced by pleased satisfaction at my praise. Such a simple creature, really—praise her magic, and she purrs like a contented cat.

"Aubrey's situation grows more complicated," she reports, her voice carrying Nora's familiar cadence even as her eyes remain purely her own. "The mental barriers continue weakening. My control over her memories becomes more tenuous each day."

The news makes my jaw clench with frustration. Everything I've built depends on Aubrey remaining under my influence, and feeling that control slip away ignites fury in my chest like wildfire.

Before I can respond, rapid footsteps echo down the stone corridor. A messenger bursts through the doorway, his face flushed with exertion as he holds out a cream-colored envelope sealed with royal wax.

I take the invitation with growing curiosity, breaking the elegant seal with one finger. As I unfold the thick parchment and read the flowing script, something cold and anticipatory settles in my chest.

Knox and Aubrey's wedding invitation.

My lips curve into a slow, sinister smile as possibilities unfold in my mind like a deadly flower blooming. The timing is perfect—a gathering of the entire royal family, all their allies, everyone who matters in one convenient location. And Aubrey, beautiful Aubrey, finally within my reach again.

"I'll make sure Aubrey has a wedding she'll never forget," I murmur, my voice dripping with malicious promise.