VESPERA The knife kissed my throat just as I snapped the man's wrist, he screamed and I smirked to the satisfying sound from his cracked bones. I gave him no chance to recover, I instantly drove my elbow into his nose and ducked beneath his swinging arm. It sent him crashing into the kitchen counter, his blood splashed across the white tiles. "You think this is a game, little Omega?" The man snorted as he staggered to his feet and wiped his blood stained nose with the back of his palm. He pulled a second knife from his boot. "Honestly? I think you need a hobby." I smiled. He lunged at me but I caught his wrist, twisted it hard and slammed his hand against the counter until the knife fell. But before I could finish him, a gunshot split the air. The bullet struck the wall beside my head as bits of brick sprayed across my cheek. The man holding the gun stood in the doorway, dressed in a charcoal suit and polished shoes, he looked nothing like the hired muscle I had been expecting. No nervous sweat, just a cold expression and a pistol aimed at my heart. "Step away from him," he ordered. I released the man beneath my hands. "Gladly." "Hands where I can see them." I raised them slowly, the gunman studied my face. "Wraith." My eyes widened in shock. Nobody used that name unless they knew exactly what I was capable of. "Your reputation is disappointing," he continued. "I expected someone taller." "And I expected someone with better aim." I spat out. It was easier to take out an angry assailant. I grabbed a broken glass and threw it at his face, he flinched and I moved quickly. My foot struck his wrist before he could fire and the gun skidded beneath the dining table. I instantly drove my shoulder into his chest and we crashed against the wall. He was stronger than he looked, he swung around, slamming his fist into my stomach. I felt air squeeze out from my lungs, without giving me time to recover he grabbed my throat. "Where is the package?" he snarled. I clawed at his arm. "What package?" I strained to reply. He tightened his grip. "Do not insult me." I didn't see his fist flying to my ribs. It slammed into my ribs and pain exploded through my side. I drove my knee upward, broke his hold, and staggered toward the table, quickly feeling under the table till my fingers closed around the gun. "Go ahead," he said as I aimed the gun at his chest. "Shoot me, you have no idea what happens if you pull that trigger." "Then I suppose we'll both learn something." My phone suddenly rang as I was about to squeeze the trigger. The sound came from the bedroom and the gunman glanced toward the hallway. That was his mistake, I seized it and fired into the floor beside his foot. He stumbled back with a curse, and I bolted through the bedroom door, grabbed my phone, and sprinted toward the fire escape. The screen showed an unknown number, I answered while still running. "Whoever this is, I'm busy." "Your sister is very pretty." A hoarse voice came from the other end. My feet stopped. "What did you say?" A photograph appeared on my screen, Mira sat casually on a chair, her dark curls were tied into two uneven puffs. A red circle had been drawn around her head. The voice continued. "It would be a shame if something happened to her." "Touch her and I'll..." I screamed into the phone. "You'll do exactly what we tell you." I heard movement behind me, the gunman had reached the bedroom and two men were standing behind him. I turned and raised my weapon. One man held a tablet and the other held a photograph of my mother. My grip tightened around the gun. "Who sent you?" The man with the tablet stepped forward. "Lady Isolde Bryt." The Bryt family did not hire assassins, they owned governments, bought judges, and made people disappear without leaving bodies behind. "What does she want?" I snarled, sweeping the room for an escape route. "To make you an offer." The man with the tablet tapped it. Mira's photograph vanished and a live video replaced it. My sister sat in a dimly lit room with her wrists tied behind a chair. A man stood behind her, holding a knife against her cheek. Mira's eyes widened when she saw the camera. "Ves?" My gun lowered by an inch. "Don't touch her." "Then listen carefully," the stranger said. "You will come with us, accept the assignment and you will follow every instruction you are given." "And if I refuse?" He glanced at Mira. "Your family will learn how quickly an ordinary evening can become a funeral." I had killed for money, lied for survival and I had spent years convincing myself that fear was a weakness I could carve out of my body. But there were some things even an assassin could not cut away and that was family. "Fine." I lowered the gun. The man with the tablet nodded. "Excellent." He approached me and held out a black envelope. Inside was a photograph of a beautiful blonde woman wearing a diamond necklace. Her smile was delicate, her eyes were bright and her skin was flawless. SERAPHINE BRYT. Beneath the photograph was another image of a man. He stood in front of a black luxury car, dressed in a tailored suit. He had dark hair, broad shoulders and an expression so cold it seemed to drain the warmth from the photograph. KAEL DRAVEN. I knew that face, everyone knew the billionaire hybrid Alpha. He was the most dangerous man in the country and, according to the document inside the envelope, my future husband. I stared at the page. "You've got to be joking, you want me to marry Kael Draven?" "Your wedding is in forty-eight hours, we want you to become Seraphine Bryt." I looked at the photograph again. "And what happened to the real bride?" The man with the tablet closed the envelope, his lip was locked in a stiff smile. "You should learn something before the wedding, Miss Vale." He leaned close to me. "Kael Draven has killed every person who tried to deceive him, your task is to become the one woman he must never discover is lying." A hand closed around my arm. I twisted instinctively, nearly breaking the guard's elbow before I remembered the knife at Mira's throat. I stopped and took a step back. The guard grinned. "Careful, bride." Then he dragged me toward the door. I looked once more at the photograph of Kael Draven, the man's eyes seemed almost alive beneath the glossy paper. Forty-eight hours, and if the stories about Kael Draven were true, I might not survive the honeymoon.

VESPERA "Get in." The guard shoved me toward the black SUV. I caught the door and turned to glare at him. "Do you always treat women like this, or am I getting special treatment?" He didn't reply, instead he seized my arm and pushed me into the back seat, slamming the door shut after me. I was trapped between two armed men, with another sitting beside the driver. The windows were tinted, the doors reinforced and a discreet camera blinked above the dashboard. Wonderful, this was definitely a kidnapping with a luxury package. "Where are we going?" I asked, nobody answered. "Is conversation forbidden? Or are you all naturally unpleasant?" The youngest guard glanced at me. "Keep quiet." "That's unfortunate, silence makes me nervous." I almost smiled. "Then be nervous quietly." The SUV pulled away from the curb. Through a narrow gap in the curtains, I watched the city disappear behind us. Mira's face flashed through my mind and my fingers instinctively tightened on my dress. I shouldn't think about her, I had to focus on studying the guards. The youngest was inexperienced while the man beside me was alert. His right hand rested close to his weapon. I shifted my wrists behind my back, testing the restraint the guards had fastened around them, the man beside me noticed. "Stop moving." "My hands are uncomfortable." I frowned at him. He caught my shoulder and shoved me against the seat, but I had already wriggled my hands free and I used the opportunity to drive my elbow into his throat. He choked, but before the others could react, I twisted his wrist, pulled the pistol from his waistband, and pointed it at the passenger seat. "Everyone remain calm!" I shouted. The driver swerved. "Put the gun down!" The driver shouted. The man beside me grabbed my hair, I slammed my head backward into his nose and he released me with a curse. I lunged for the door handle but the SUV suddenly braked, my shoulder struck the window and the gun slipped from my hand. The guard caught my wrist and twisted it behind my back. He pressed my face against the seat, I kicked backward, catching his shin, but the other guard seized my ankles. Within seconds, I was pinned. The older guard leaned close to my ear. "Try that again, and I'll break something you need." I spat blood onto his sleeve. "Start with your personality." Then the SUV slowed. Outside, a man was waving frantically beside a dark vehicle with its bonnet raised, another figure sat slumped in the passenger seat. "Help!" the man shouted. "Please! My wife is hurt!" The guard released me and reached for his weapon. "Stay here," he ordered and he climbed out. The guard beside me followed, leaving the youngest to watch me from the front. I leaned toward the window, the stranded man was pacing beside his vehicle, repeatedly looking toward the woman inside. "She's bleeding!" the man shouted. "Please, I need a doctor!" The youngest guard hesitated. "Should we help him?" The driver shook his head. "Orders are orders." I looked at him. "Your employer would rather let a woman die on the road?" "Not your concern." He turned toward the stranded vehicle and that was his mistake. I kicked the door open and threw myself out. My feet hit the wet asphalt, I stumbled, caught the side of the SUV, and sprinted toward the trees. "She's running!" I heard one of the men shout. A gunshot cracked through the rain and the bullet struck the road ahead of me. I stopped so abruptly that my shoes slid across the asphalt. The driver stood behind the SUV, his pistol aimed directly at my chest. "Take another step," he shouted, "and the next bullet won't miss, you were warned." I slowly raised my hands. "You're going to shoot a bride?" "I've been ordered to shoot you if you run." He replied coldly. The stranded driver had stopped shouting and the woman in the vehicle was no longer moving. The guard approached me without lowering his gun. "Get back in the vehicle." I walked toward the SUV. As I passed him, he grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back. "Next time, remember the bullet." I smiled despite the pain. "Next time, remember to aim higher, you nearly ruined my shoes." He shoved me into the back seat. This time, he fastened a restraint around my wrist and secured it to a metal fitting beneath the seat. The SUV pulled away, leaving the stranded vehicle behind. Suddenly I understood, the roadside emergency had been staged. They wanted to see if I would steal a window of escape, and I proved them right. The city vanished completely, replaced by winding roads, thick trees, and towering stone walls. Security cameras appeared at regular intervals with their lenses following the SUV as it passed. I counted every turn till we got to a narrow road that sloped toward a set of lion gates. Beyond the gates stood an enormous estate, armed guards patrolled the entrance, and several black vehicles were parked beside the main building. The gates opened, and the SUV rolled inside then stopped beneath a covered entrance. One guard opened my door. "Out." I climbed down carefully, a woman stood at the top of the steps in a black silk dress. Lady Isolde Bryt. Her gaze moved over me and paused at my scraped hands and muddy clothes. "You attempted to escape." "I needed fresh air." I scoffed. Before I could blink, she slapped me squarely across my face. The guards looked away and I slowly turned back to her. "Is that how you welcome all your guests?" "You are not a guest." She narrowed her eyes. "Remember why you are here, Vespera. Your family remains alive because I permit it." My chest heaved in anger. "Then I suggest you continue permitting it." She stepped closer towards me and whispered to me dismissing my words as nothing. "You will become Seraphine Bryt. You will marry Kael Draven and you will obey every instruction given to you." "And if I don't?" Her smile was thin. "Your sister will suffer first." At that moment I wanted to hit her so hard that her cold expression would disappear. Instead, I lowered my gaze and Lady Isolde nodded to the guards. "Take her upstairs, the wedding is tomorrow morning." In less than twenty-four hours I would stand beside a man whose bloodline was feared across the country, pretending to be a woman I had never met. The guards led me through the entrance and into a corridor lined with portraits. I kept my head lowered whilst I memorized doors, cameras, and exits. Then a man stepped into our path. He wore a dark uniform and carried a tablet beneath one arm. His gaze moved over my face before dropping to the torn neckline of my dress. "Is this the bride?" he asked. "Yes," the guard replied. "Seraphine Bryt." The man looked at me again. "She's supposed to be delicate." He raised an eyebrow. I raised my eyes. "Excuse me, I'm standing right here." He ignored me and continued. "The medical report said she was frail, sheltered and prone to fainting." "People exaggerate," One guard replied. Now both brows were furrowed. "Apparently." He stepped closer, studying my face as though he was comparing it with an image stored in his mind. I resisted the urge to move away. Then his eyes dropped to my shoulder. The torn fabric had slipped farther than I realized, exposing a thin, pale scar just below my collarbone. "What happened there?" He asked. My heart gave one hard thud and I quickly pulled the fabric into place. "It was an accident." I mumbled in the most quiet voice. "What kind of accident? Seraphine was never supposed to have a scar like that." I stared at him, forcing my face to remain blank. He didn't recognize me, he had simply noticed that the woman standing before him did not match the fragile heiress he had been told to expect. "Bring her to the examination room," he ordered. The guard hesitated. "Why?" The man never took his eyes off me. "Because I want to know what else the bride's medical records failed to mention." This was the first time in a long while my heart has thundered so loudly within my chest. Fuck you, Lady Isolde.

VESPERA "Your smile is wrong." I stared at the woman standing in front of me. "Good evening to you, too." Madam Corvelle did not smile. "Seraphine Bryt has a gentle disposition. She speaks softly, avoids confrontation, and rarely looks anyone directly in the eye. You, on the other hand, look as though you're deciding where to bury a body." "Perhaps I have a naturally intimidating face." I shrugged. I glanced at the mirror barely recognizing myself. The woman staring back at me wore an expensive silk robe, her curly hair fell around her shoulders, and a bruise darkened one cheek. Now I was in Kael Draven's Estate, preparing to marry him under a name that belonged to a missing woman. What could possibly go wrong? Madam Corvelle dropped a thick folder onto the dressing table. "Your education begins now." I eyed it suspiciously. "Does it contain a way out of this marriage?" "No." Her reply was blunt. "Then I suspect I'll find it disappointing." I smirked at her, obviously she didn't get the humor so I opened the folder. It contained photographs, medical records, handwritten notes, school reports, and official documents. There were enough details to reconstruct Seraphine's entire life, from her childhood illnesses to her favourite breakfast. I lifted the first photograph. Seraphine had blonde hair, pale skin, and soft grey eyes. She wore a white dress and stood beside a man in an expensive suit, her smile was timid and looked almost apologetic. "Is this supposed to be a joke?" I asked. Madam Corvelle frowned. "What?" "You've brought me here to impersonate a woman who looks like she belongs in a perfume advertisement, and you expect nobody to notice the difference?" "Your facial structure is sufficiently similar, your hair can be altered, your makeup adjusted, and your appearance softened." "My personality?" I raised my hands. "That is what we're addressing." I dropped the photograph onto the table. "Perhaps you should have kidnapped a better candidate." Whack! She slapped me, guess the madam and her employee both have moving hands. "Do that once more," I said quietly, "and you'll lose the hand." Madam Corvelle studied me, perhaps reconsidering whether a slap had been the wisest decision. "You will learn obedience," she said. "And you'll learn manners." I pointed my index finger at her. "I am a trained assassin, I needn't tell you how things will end if you decide to be violent." She turned to the guards. "Leave us." They hesitated. "Now." They finally left, closing the door behind them. Madam Corvelle picked up the photograph and pushed it into my hands. "Listen carefully. The marriage between the Veyr and Draven families has been arranged for months. The agreement involves political influence, business interests, and obligations neither family intends to abandon because the bride has disappeared." "Then find the bride." She shook her head and lowered her voice. "Seraphine is missing. Her family has been unable to locate her, and the wedding cannot be postponed again without consequences. You are here because you can take her place." "Because my face is similar enough?" "You will be Seraphine Bryt, you will marry Kael Draven tomorrow morning. You will smile when instructed, answer questions carefully, and never reveal that you are someone else." "And if he discovers the truth?" I asked. "You will regret it." I don't think I only get the backlash." She went silent but she ignored me. "He has received her photographs and personal history." She continued. The families have communicated on his behalf, he has never met Seraphine." A small measure of relief loosened something in my chest, that was our only advantage. Madam Corvelle leaned closer. "Do not mistake his unfamiliarity for stupidity. Mr. Draven is an SS-grade Alpha hybrid. His senses are exceptionally sharp, his temper is unpredictable, and he has little patience for dishonesty." "Then he should enjoy meeting me." I replied unbothered. "He will destroy you if he discovers your deception." I smiled without warmth. "Everyone keeps promising me that, I almost feel special." Her gaze dropped to my injured hand. "Tomorrow, you will wear the blue dress. Your hair will be styled to resemble Seraphine's usual appearance. You will be given a complete medical examination tonight, and you will memorise every document in this folder before morning." "Anything else?" I raised a brow. "Do not touch the jewellery marked with silver ribbons. Those items belong to Seraphine and are to be returned to her family." "Why bring them here, then?" "Because the family requested it." She headed toward the door and paused her hand on the handle. "Your sister's safety depends on your cooperation, remember that, Vespera." I looked at Seraphine's photograph. "Your life had better be worth this." By eight o'clock, I had learned that Seraphine hated strong coffee, preferred chamomile tea, and suffered from recurring fainting spells. She had attended a private academy, studied art history, and avoided crowded social events. She had no known romantic relationships, no criminal record, and apparently no ability to stand for more than twenty minutes without becoming dizzy. I stared at her medical report. "Was she made of glass?" I muttered. Liora, the young maid assigned to help me, she was Seraphina's hand maiden. She glanced nervously at the open bedroom door. "Please don't say things like that." "Why? Will the walls report me?" I lowered my voice. "Did Seraphine really faint that often?" "Yes, she was always delicate." Liora replied. "Did she have any unusual habits?" "She twisted her ring whenever she was nervous. She also counted the buttons on her sleeves when she couldn't sleep." I looked at the photograph. Seraphine's hands were folded neatly in front of her, and a thin silver ring sat on her right index finger. "Where is her ring?" I asked. Liora hesitated. "She lost it before she disappeared, I don't know a lot about it." I closed the folder. "You don't know much about the woman you've apparently helped dress for years." The medical reports described Seraphine as physically weak, prone to anxiety, and sensitive to strong scents. One document specifically advised against exposing her to unusually high concentrations of Alpha pheromones without medical supervision. That was interesting. Kael Draven supposedly possessed some of the strongest Alpha pheromones ever recorded. I tapped the page. "Why would they arrange a marriage between someone so physically vulnerable and an Alpha like him?" Liora's eyes widened. "Because their families wanted an alliance." "Does nobody in these families care whether the bride survives it?" She said nothing, so I turned to another page. A list of Seraphine's favourite things followed her medical history. Her preferred flowers were white lilies, she disliked thunderstorms and she had a habit of apologising even when she had done nothing wrong. I practised her signature on a scrap of paper, by the sixth attempt, it looked convincing. "Miss Vikin?" Liora stood beside the wardrobe, holding a pale blue dress. "Madam Corvelle says you must try this on." I examined the gown. It was delicate, expensive, and designed to make its wearer look harmless. The neckline was high enough to conceal the scar beneath my collarbone, and the long sleeves hid the marks on my wrists. I stepped behind the changing screen and pulled it on. When I emerged, Liora clasped her hands. "You look beautiful." "I look like I should be locked in a glass cabinet." She smiled before remembering herself. I turned toward the mirror, the dress transformed my appearance. My hair would need styling, my face would need makeup, and my posture would need work. A knock sounded and Liora hurried to the door. A male voice came from the corridor. "Medical examination. Open up." My fingers tightened around the fabric. "Do I have to?" "Yes, Miss Vale." Liora nodded. "Is there a reason nobody here believes in asking permission?" The door opened, and an older physician entered with a medical bag. He wore rimless glasses and carried himself with the confidence of a man accustomed to being obeyed. "Please sit down." I did, he checked my pulse, examined my eyes, and asked several questions about my medical history. I answered carefully, using the information from Seraphine's records. Then he reached for my left hand. "Any previous injuries?" "No." I replied smoothly. He turned my palm upward. A pale scar crossed the base of my thumb, another marked the side of my index finger. He frowned. "Where did these come from?" "Kitchen accidents, I'm a terrible cook." I said in the smallest voice possible. He examined my hands more closely. "These are not typical kitchen injuries." "Perhaps I cook aggressively." I was becoming nervous. He looked at me for about a few seconds then he closed my hand. "You should avoid strenuous activity before the wedding." "I'm planning to spend the entire day sitting quietly and regretting my decisions." He packed his instruments then stared at me for a long moment before gathering his bag. "I'll speak with Madam Corvelle." After he left, I exhaled. Liora rushed toward me. "Miss, you should get some rest." "I've been kidnapped and threatened with death. Sleep seems optimistic." I agreed. She hung the blue dress beside several other gowns. As she reached for a cream-coloured garment, something slipped from its lining and fluttered to the floor. It was a folded piece of paper, I bent and picked it up. The paper was creased and slightly yellowed at the edges. Someone had hidden it deep inside the dress, securing it beneath a loose section of stitching. I unfolded it, it had four words on it. DO NOT MARRY KAEL. I recognized Seraphine's signature, it was dated yesterday. The day she disappeared. I had been ordered to take Seraphine's place because the arranged marriage mattered more than the missing bride. But Seraphine had left one final instruction for whoever wore her dress, and it looks like she anticipated her family would look for a replacement. "Miss?" Liora whispered. "What is it?" I stared at Seraphine's signature. "I think the bride knows something we don't." A knock thundered against the door. "Miss Vikin!" Madam Corvelle called. "Open immediately!" I shoved the note into my sleeve, Liora hurried to the door, but before she could unlock it, another voice sounded from the corridor. It was a man's voice, it sounded deep, low and unmistakably authoritative. "Why is my bride's room locked?"