It was like a radar hit him, with a tracker honed in on the brunette across the room. Without shame, Nik let his sharp eyes rove over her body, the hem of the shiny teal silk suggesting plump curves. It was sexy. She looked healthy, like she actually had an appetite, unlike a lot of the human coat hangers strutting around like they owned the place.

He started to look away, to dismiss the woman as a fleeting fancy, when the thought of letting her out of his sight terrified him.

Go after her.

It was barely a thought, more like a whisper of his subconscious mind, but he followed her through the room. His inner wolf grew restless as he watched his prey, growling as another male came up to her and asked her to dance. He wasn’t snooping, Nik told himself. He was merely curious, concerned for her well-being, even.

Since when the hell are you so chivalrous? came the taunting voice inside.

He quickly ignored it and continued watching the woman, smiling as she promptly rejected the man. He was pushy, a typical were. Nik listened, attentive but keeping his distance. That is, until the man put his hands on the woman.

Nik swiftly stepped forward. “She can’t take the next dance with you because she’s already promised it to me,” he said smoothly, standing beside her and putting a hand on the small of her back.

The woman blinked up at him, looking surprised, but she didn’t argue. “Yes,” she finally said, “I’m sorry, Drake. Perhaps another time.”

Nik gave a vicious smile to Drake as the other wolf sized him up.

Any time, any day, hot shot.

At last, Drake growled and turned, muttering something about “country wolves.” The insult rolled off Nik like it always did. He was accustomed to it by now after dealing with royals for so long, the stuck-up lot.

Nik smiled down at his new companion, offering his arm. “Shall we?”

She stared at him. Her cherry lips had the perfect pout effect. He wanted to nibble on that succulent bottom lip…. “Shall we what?” she asked.

“Dance?” He gestured to the ballroom with his head. “You did just agree to it.”

“I—I did not!”

“You did. Or do I need to go get Drake as a witness?”

She scowled at him. “I don’t dance.”

“You do now. Come on. One dance, that’s all I ask.” When she still made no answer, he added in a low, sing-song voice, “It’ll be fun.”

She swallowed hard, her pupils dilating slightly. “Fine. One dance. But if you so much as put your hands where they don’t belong, I’ll bite you.”

“Oh, please do,” he purred, and she dug her nails into his arm. He chuckled. He liked this one. She had the same “take no shit” attitude as the other she-wolves, but there was something more vulnerable about her. She looked like a fish out of water, so to speak. He could relate. He hated this whole ordeal as much as anyone.

The first strains of a new waltz floated through the air as they entered the ballroom and took their place among the dancers. “Come on,” Nik said with a low laugh, pulling her close to him. “I wore cologne today and everything.”

“Where are all your piercings?” she said with derision, eyeing his ears as they began to turn to the beat.

“In my jewelry box with all my other trinkets,” he said, perfectly poker-faced.

She blinked, looking startled.

He chuckled, and she bit on her lip to hide her smile. “You’re toying with me.”

“Only because I like to see you smile.”

She looked at him sharply. “What’s the catch?”

“Catch?” he asked, taken off-guard.

“You know what I mean. What’s in it for you, getting on my good side?”

“Well, if I’m lucky, the privilege of another dance,” he replied smoothly. He could dish out a lot of romantic bullshit—anything to get a woman into his bed for a night of mindless sex—but thing was—he meant it. This time, he wasn’t playing for a booty call.

A blush colored her pale cheeks, making him warmer. Lovely.

“What’s your name?” he asked, pulling her closer so their chests were touching. This close, he could feel the press of her round, full breasts against him. Desire stirred deep in his gut, pushing blood south of his navel.

She was silent a moment. “Alara.”

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “And unique. Wasn’t that the name of the first High Queen?”

Her delicate jaw ticked. “Yes.”

He grinned. “Your parents have a thing for royalty, I take it?”

For at least the third time tonight, she stared at him as if his hair had caught fire.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he added hastily. “It’s still a very unique name, obsessions and all.”

Shit. Just shut your mouth before you ruin this.

Her gray eyes narrowed. “It’s not an obsession. It’s tradition.”

“What, naming you after your mommy and daddy’s icons?”

She started to pull away, disgusted, but he held firm. “Hey, I’m sorry, all right? I can be an ass sometimes—okay, most of the time. My brother says I don’t know how to filter what comes out of my mouth.”

She snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

He ignored the jab. She was definitely royal—that haughty way she looked at him, like he was street scum, was the same way all the other “elite” looked at lesser-ranked wolves. She was probably some packmaster’s daughter. But unlike the others, he found her haughtiness amusing more than irritating. It was cute on her, like she was a softie trying hard to be tough. Besides, it was fun getting a rile out of her. She was so damn sexy when she was irritable.

“I’m not as rough as I seem,” he said carefully. “All I’m saying is you don’t seem to like your name as much as your parents do. But I don’t blame you for getting upset. People tend to wear guises to hide who they really are from the world.”

She looked him in the eyes then, like, really looked at him. She looked away, seeming bothered.

Worried that he’d just majorly screwed up made him miss a step. He never missed a step. What the hell was wrong with him? He wetted his lips, at a loss for words.

“Did it hurt?”

He looked at her. She was staring at his mouth, and it was giving him dirty ideas. “Does what hurt?”

“Your tongue piercing.”

“Oh. That.” He flexed his tongue, displaying the silver-colored nub he hadn’t taken out. He’d only agreed to remove most of his studs. “Nah. Had it a while.”

“What on earth would possess someone to poke a hole through their tongue?”

“Haven’t you ever done anything on a whim?”

She looked wistful for a moment. He saw the hope, the longing, in her eyes. Then that sad, resigned shade fell back into place, followed by a composed look she’d probably practiced in the mirror dozens of times to perfect. “Some of us can’t afford whims.”

“You should try it sometime. Live a little.”

“I live enough.”

He snorted. “Sure. Doing what, Your Highness? Sewing?”

She stepped on his foot with the heel of her shoe, and he winced slightly.

“Point taken—quite literally. Sorry, that was a sexist blow.”

“Ass.”

His brows shot up. “Did you just call me an ass? I didn’t think ladies swore.”

“Who says I’m a lady?” she said in a surprisingly smoky voice.

He slowly smiled. “Are you flirting with me?”

She leaned in, eyes dropping to his lips. “Keep dreaming.”

He laughed outright. “Damn! You had me fooled! You’re pretty saucy, aren’t you?”

She smiled. “I can honestly say that’s the first time I’ve ever been called saucy.”

“I could think of a few other adjectives: sexy, confident….” His hand slid lower on her back, his fingers resting along the curve of her bottom. He heard her breath catch as he leaned in, his lips beside her ears. “Beautiful. Captivating.”

Her breasts rubbed up and down his chest as her breathing quickened. He wondered if she could feel him hardening for her. The effect she had on him… he’d never felt anything quite like it before. He could hear her heart beating wildly, could smell the lust seeping out of her. Oh, yes, she wanted him all right. A cherry, waiting to be picked.

And he wanted to have her all to himself.

A man cleared his throat nearby as a figure stepped into their path. Nik had to do some quick maneuvering to keep Alara from slamming into him.

He was about Nik’s age and handsome in an old Civil War kind of way. He had a classically straight nose, a muscular frame, and a few scars to his face. Nik instantly gained more respect for him then. He could relate to a fighting man more than these pampered wusses.

The uniformed man bowed low to Alara. “My lady, I was hoping to cut in?”

Nik instinctively growled and pulled her closer. The man’s eyes narrowed in warning, a low growl also coming up his throat.

Alara put a hand on both their chests. “Gentlemen, please. Yes, Gerard, I would be delighted.” She turned to Nik. “Thank you, Mister…?”

“Nik. Call me Nik.” He grabbed her gloved hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it. “The pleasure’s been all mine, Lady Alara.”

Color rose to her cheeks again. God, she was so pretty when she blushed. Did she have any idea how she was making him feel, of the delicious chaos raging inside him as he gazed at her?

Gerard gave Nik a look that said, “Get lost, Beta scum.”

Nik gave him a curt nod, at last tearing his eyes off Alara as he walked away. He couldn’t get the feel of her body off his mind. Still, his sex yearned to be inside her, to make sweet love to her like no wolf had ever done before.

He scowled. She was not yet marked. She was royal, and royals, especially of her caliber, almost always marked other royals. He was foolish to think he could bed her so easily.

He smiled to himself. “You silly dreamer.”

The thought of her lying in another man’s arms, naked, drove him near mad. He went for the bar, ordering a glass of Scotch. As he drank, he couldn’t take his eyes off the dancers, his gaze furtively searching for the woman who’d so captivated him.

He caught them waltzing closer to the door—and she was looking his way.

Alara.

Gerard followed her gaze, his eyes landing on Nik, to which Nik grinned and waved.

Gerard promptly looked away, his form noticeably stiffer than before.

Nik snickered.

“You’re awfully chipper. What’s put you in such a good mood?”

Nik didn’t turn at his brother’s voice as he joined him. “Eh. I’m sporting a pretty good buzz. Where’s your mate?”

Gage pointed to the dance floor, where an elderly man was spinning her about while she laughed. Gage’s eyes got that soft twinkle they always did when he was watching her. Nik knew his brother hadn’t taken his eyes off her the entire time. He was very protective of his mate, as all werewolves were, but especially since she almost died.

“It looked like you were getting close to the brunette over there.”

Nik shrugged. His temperature flushed as he remembered the feel of her curves beneath his palm as it glided over the silk. He could feel himself getting hard again just thinking about it.

“You do realize who that is, don’t you?”

“What do you mean? She’s some lord’s daughter. Her manners are evidence enough of that.” Nik took a sip of his champagne.

“Oh, she’s some lord’s daughter all right. That’s Alara Crescent, daughter of High King Victor Crescent.”

Nik spit out his drink. “You’re shitting me.”

“I shit you not.”

Nik looked back at Alara as she danced. So his hunches were right—she was royal. He just hadn’t expected her to be high royalty, as in, future High Queen of their kind. All his flirting and hopeful puppy dog eyes…. He’d been screwed before he’d even had a chance. Princesses didn’t mark nobodies.

He became aware Gage was watching him carefully. Shit. He was getting careless. He had to keep up his cover. His little brother had enough on his mind. With a wide grin, he said, “So how’s the party?”

“Dull, but I knew it would be,” Gage said. His tone turned serious. “I may have a lead on Mistress Black.”

Nik immediately straightened. “What do you know?”

“Nothing yet. But one of the werewolves sought me out and said he might have something.”

“Point him out to me.”

Gage turned around and discreetly whispered, “The blond-haired gentleman across the room, talking to the Davenport Alpha and his mate.”

Nik’s eyes met an older man’s from across the room. The silver flower pin shone from his lapel. “That’s our informant?” he hissed. “He’s a Nightshade.”

“I know.”

Nik studied Gage. “Do you trust him?”

“What choice do I have? No one’s been able to dig up anything on Mistress Black. I can’t risk my mate’s—or my pack’s—safety. I have to do whatever it takes to find out who she is.”

Nik hated the desperation in his brother’s voice. Not that he’d know anything about mates, but Nik was dead certain if someone had tried to kill his little brother—someone he loved more than anyone else in the world—he would do anything necessary to track down the assassin. Nik downed the rest of his champagne. “I’ll go with you.”

They started to walk over to the other side of the room when gunfire broke out. Nik immediately grabbed Gage and hit the floor as Gage cried out his mate’s name.

“Danica,” he said frantically.

“I know,” Nik replied. “We’ll find her.”

More gunfire—there were multiple assailants. Nik couldn’t risk his brother’s safety. He listened for the source of the assault.

It was coming from the ballroom.

His heart skipped a beat in fear.

“Alara.”