Chapter Four

The day of the hunting party arrived with infuriating speed. One minute I was dreading it from the safety of my bedroom, and the next I was being stuffed into Mom's SUV with three suitcases and a garment bag containing the formal dress she'd insisted on buying me.

"I still don't understand why I need so much stuff," I grumbled, watching our house disappear as we drove down the long driveway. "The party's only three days long."

Mom adjusted her rearview mirror. "You need options, Lena. First impressions matter."

"Not to me," I muttered, turning to look out the window.

"Besides," she continued as if I hadn't spoken, "if you're marked, you'll be going directly to your new pack. You'll want your things with you."

My stomach lurched at the reminder. I'd been so focused on avoiding being marked that I hadn't really processed what would happen if I failed. I'd leave with a stranger, possibly never to see my home again.

"I won't be marked," I said, more to convince myself than her.

Mom sighed. "Lena, please. At least try to keep an open mind. Finding your mate is a blessing, not a curse."

I bit back the retort on the tip of my tongue. There was no point arguing anymore. In a few hours, I'd be at Silver Lake Resort where the hunting party was being held this year, and after that... well, I'd face whatever came.

We drove in silence for the next hour, through our territory and into the neutral zone that separated the major packs. Silver Lake was considered neutral ground, a place where packs could gather without territorial disputes. It was also one of the most exclusive resorts in the country, catering specifically to werewolves with its secluded location and thousands of acres of pristine forest—perfect for hunting parties.

As we pulled up to the grand entrance, I couldn't help but be impressed despite myself. The resort was built to resemble a massive log cabin, with soaring windows and stone chimneys. Forests stretched in every direction, and the lake itself glittered in the distance, a perfect mirror reflecting the snow-capped mountains beyond.

A valet approached our car, and I recognized him as a member of the Silver Pack by his subtle scent. Most of the staff here would be from the local pack, I realized. They'd be watching everything, reporting back to their Alpha about new matings and alliances formed during the hunting party.

"Welcome to Silver Lake Resort," the valet said, opening my door with a slight bow. "May I take your bags, Miss Blackwood?"

I startled at being recognized, then remembered—of course. As the daughter of an Alpha, my face would be known to many. Great. So much for flying under the radar.

"I can get them," I said, reaching for my backpack.

"Lena," Mom hissed. "Let him do his job."

I reluctantly handed over my bag, then watched as the valet efficiently unloaded the rest of our luggage onto a cart. Mom handed him a tip, and he wheeled our things toward the entrance.

"Remember," Mom said quietly as we followed, "you represent the Blackwood Pack here. Behave accordingly."

"I'm not going to embarrass Dad, if that's what you're worried about," I said, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

"That's not—" She stopped, taking a deep breath. "I just want you to be open to possibilities, Lena. This weekend could change your life for the better."

I didn't respond as we entered the grand lobby, with its massive stone fireplace and antler chandeliers. Werewolves from various packs milled about, the air thick with tension and excitement. I could practically smell the hormones wafting through the room.

A pretty female werewolf in a resort uniform approached us with a tablet. "Alpha Female Blackwood," she greeted my mother with respect. "And Miss Lena. Welcome to Silver Lake. We have your suite ready on the east wing, overlooking the lake. It's one of our premium accommodations, as befitting your status."

Mom smiled. "Thank you..."

"Tessa," the girl supplied. "I'll be your personal concierge during your stay. If you need anything at all, just call my extension." She handed my mother a keycard. "The welcome reception begins at six in the Grand Ballroom. All unmated females are expected to attend."

My jaw clenched at the word "expected," but I forced a polite nod. Tessa led us through the lobby toward the elevators, and I couldn't help noticing the looks I received from other werewolves. Some were curious, others calculating. A group of males by the bar didn't even try to hide their interest, their eyes tracking me as I passed.

One of them, a tall werewolf with sandy blonde hair, nudged his friend and whispered something that made the others laugh. I caught the words "Alpha's daughter" and "challenge" before they were out of earshot.

Great. Being the Alpha's daughter made me a prize catch, a status symbol. Marking me would elevate any male's standing in his pack.

The suite was as impressive as promised, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake and mountains. Two bedrooms, a living area, and a spacious bathroom with a soaking tub that in any other circumstance would have had me squealing with delight.

"This is lovely," Mom said to Tessa. "Please convey our thanks to Alpha Silver for his hospitality."

"Of course, Alpha Female." Tessa smiled and backed toward the door. "If there's nothing else you need...?"

"We're fine, thank you," Mom said.

As soon as the door closed behind Tessa, I flopped onto the plush sofa and stared at the ceiling. "So what now? We just wait around until it's time to be paraded in front of a bunch of drooling males?"

Mom ignored my tone. "Now, we get you ready. The welcome reception is important, Lena. It's where unmated males will first notice you."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," I muttered.

For the next few hours, Mom fussed over me like I was a show pony being prepared for competition. She insisted I take a long bath with some special oils she'd brought, then spent ages styling my hair into soft waves that framed my face "just so." She even applied makeup, something I rarely bothered with, enhancing my green eyes with subtle shadow and mascara.

"Come on, Sel, you're going to be late!" Ethan called, pounding on my bedroom door. The excitement in his voice confused me after our conversation on the path. Had our father gotten to him?

I yanked the door open. "Since when are you eager for me to attend this nightmare?"

Ethan's eyes darted toward the end of the hallway, where a study door stood ajar. When he spoke again, his voice remained enthusiastic, but his expression telegraphed a warning.

"It's tradition, sis! And all the packs will be there. Don't you want to represent Blackwood proudly?"

I caught on immediately. Someone was listening. Playing along, I rolled my eyes dramatically. "Fine. Let me grab my things."

Instead of the ceremonial dress my mother had laid out—a flowing silver gown with moon pearl embroidery—I defiantly pulled on my most worn pair of jeans, a faded black sweatshirt, and comfortable sneakers. If I had to attend this archaic matchmaking ritual, I'd do it on my terms.

When I emerged, Ethan raised an eyebrow at my outfit but said nothing. Mom, however, gasped when she saw me in the living room.

"Lena! You can't wear that! The other alphas will think we're disrespecting them!"

"Good," I muttered, sliding the vials of scent neutralizer and wolfsbane into my sweatshirt pocket. The silver dagger was strapped to my ankle, hidden beneath my jeans.

"Of course," Ethan agreed, practically shoving me out the door before Mom could change her mind. "Anyway, there's something you should know before we get there. The Stone Ridge pack arrived last night."

My stomach twisted with anxiety. "Great. Just what this nightmare needed."

"Their new Alpha is attending," Ethan continued, his voice dropping to a whisper even though we were alone on the forest path. "Kieran Stone."

The name sent an electric chill down my spine. Everyone in werewolf society knew of Kieran Stone. At twenty-four, he'd become the youngest Alpha in generations after challenging and defeating his own father in combat two years ago. Rumors of his brutality during that fight had spread through all the packs—how he'd almost torn out his father's throat even after the older wolf had yielded. Kieran had been the first Alpha to show mercy, he let his father live.

"I thought he never attended these events," I said, suddenly questioning whether hiding during the hunt would be enough. If Kieran Stone was participating...