Chapter 2

The carriage ride was an exercise in self-restraint. As I sat among the most stunning women I had ever seen, I felt like an imposter—a painfully average human girl wrapped in silks that probably cost more than my entire life back home.

Elven women were the pinnacle of beauty in this world. Delicate features, mesmerizing eyes that shimmered like polished gemstones, and a kind of effortless grace that made them look like they floated rather than walked. It wasn't just their looks that made them desirable—it was the power they represented. Every elven woman came from the Ascended line, their fathers and brothers the kind of men who could bend nations to their will. Mating with an elven woman meant access to that power. No male in his right mind would pass up an opportunity to have an elven bride in his pack.

Dragons came next. Fiery, ethereal, and otherworldly, their beauty was in their strength. Many hailed from the Veiled, their mere presence enough to command attention. They weren't as delicate as elves, but they had a wild, untamed elegance that made them irresistible.

Then there were the banshees and seelie, mostly from the Veiled or Ascended depending on their courts. Banshees had haunting, eerie beauty, while seelie looked like something out of a dream. They were rare, their beauty carrying an almost ethereal quality that made them feel untouchable.

Lycans and vampires were next in the hierarchy. Seductive, dangerous, and powerful in their own right. A lycan or vampire woman's worth wasn't inherent—it depended on their mates. If a female lycan was bonded to an Embered or higher, she was considered just as powerful as her mate. The same went for vampires. Unlike elves or dragons, their strength came from association.

And then there were humans—bottom of the chain, dismissed and overlooked. If a human woman wanted to survive, she had to be smart. Strong in ways that had nothing to do with magic or power.

I was the only human to ever participate in the Harem Ball.

I adjusted my dress, trying not to feel like a fraud as I sat among the women in the carriage. They were all so effortlessly beautiful, the kind of beauty that belonged in paintings, not real life. A few shot me looks ranging from curiosity to pity to outright dismissal. I was used to that. I had been an average office worker in my past life—nothing special, just a girl who worked hard and tried to survive.

That life ended when I bled out in an alleyway, trying to stop a murder.

I didn't think about that night often, but sometimes it crept up on me. The way the knife had felt against my skin, the sharp sting of metal slicing through muscle. The helplessness. The fear.

When I woke up in this world, I knew better than to announce I wasn't from here. I wasn't stupid. I didn't know what kind of world I had been thrown into, and being human made me vulnerable enough without adding 'otherworldly anomaly' to the list. So I hid.

I had spent two days scavenging for food before Aenie found me. She was a low-ranking Veiled, but that didn't mean she was powerless. She and her mates owned a bar-turned-restaurant and a weapon shop. They weren't the richest, but they were respected.

She had been shocked to see me at first, and I had been terrified. But then she spoke, and I nearly cried from relief. She spoke in English—or rather, in what this world called the 'commoner's tongue' (or something fancier, but I didn't care).

She had taken one look at my torn clothes—my skirt barely holding together, my blouse shredded where I had been stabbed, though no blood or wounds remained—and immediately known I wasn't from here. But she didn't ask questions, not right away. She just offered help.

She took me in, gave me food, let me bathe, and introduced me to her four mates. One of them, a seer and magician named Rhael, had tried to see my future but found nothing. He could, however, see my past.

That was when they decided it was safer to hide the truth. Aenie claimed I was the daughter of a distant relative from another kingdom. That my mother—her so-called aunt—had died, and she had taken it upon herself to care for me.

I didn't argue. I wasn't stupid. Announcing my otherworldly origins in a place where power was everything would have been a death sentence. Or worse.

Now, months later, I was on my way to the Harem Ball.

The carriage jolted as we hit a bump in the road, pulling me from my thoughts.

"You're rather plain for someone attending the ball," a melodic voice said beside me.

I turned my head slightly to see an elven woman watching me, a soft, almost pitying smile on her perfect lips.

She wasn't wrong. Compared to them, I was plain. Average. Dull.

I smiled back, saccharine sweet. "I know."

She blinked, clearly not expecting that response.

The truth was, I had no illusions about my place here. I wasn't powerful, I wasn't sought after, and I wasn't beautiful in the way these women were. But I wasn't weak. And I wasn't stupid.

The carriage slowed as we neared the entrance to the palace, the grand structure looming over us like something out of a gothic fairytale. The air buzzed with energy—magic, power, expectation.

I exhaled slowly.

Time to face whatever came next.

The carriage door opened.

And then everything went wrong.

End of chapter two.