A Messed Up Heel.

Dakota:

I ran the moment I turned twenty-one.

Not because I was reckless. Not because I was ungrateful.

Because staying would have killed me.

My family called it love. I called it survival. They dressed me up, paraded me, whispered filth about me when they thought I couldn't hear. Treated me like something to be traded. Used. Owned.

So I left. No plan. No protection. Just hope.

The night of the ball was supposed to be a fresh start. Chandeliers like fallen stars, music floating through silk and champagne. For the first time, I felt almost free.

Then I felt his eyes.

He stood across the ballroom like sin given a body. Black hair, sharp jaw, broad shoulders that filled his suit perfectly. Green eyes that didn't look-they measured. They owned.

When he looked at me, I should have been afraid. Instead, I felt chosen.

Dangerous felt safer than going back home.

⸻

Ashton:

I don't believe in coincidence. I believe in opportunity.

I went to that ball to secure alliances, smile at men I despise, remind my family I am no pawn. They want obedience. Quiet. A wife who keeps me exactly where they want me. I don't do obedience.

Then I saw her. Brown hair down her back, soft eyes too soft for a room like that. Five-foot-five of light in a world of wolves. She didn't belong. Which meant she belonged to me.

She looked at me like I wasn't a monster. Her first mistake.

I'm not a good man. Men twice her size fear me. My own family watches me like I'm a loaded weapon. But she didn't flinch. She smiled. God help her, she smiled.

I need a wife. Someone untouched by my family's poison. Someone I can marry fast, claim faster, and use as a shield. She needs protection. I took her. Cold. Clean.

She thinks I saved her. She doesn't know she's just stepped into a cage far worse than the one she ran from.