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Before Savvine had the chance to respond, the woman leaned in one last time and tapped Savvine’s cheek, her voice like razors beneath velvet. ‘In the meantime,cara, keep yourselfpure.’

With that, Helena turned, silks sweeping behind her like a tide of judgment, and strolled away with her entourage, exiting the wedding with a wave resembling an imperial empress.

Savvine stood still, jaw tense, hands curling at her sides.

Pure?

Fokk.

It was no secret that Helena Bianchi had always despised intermarriages between clan members and metas, shifters, and enhanced pedigree.

She’d spoken openly, and often, about the ‘tainting’ of the Bianchi name.

To her, the future was not fusion; instead, it reeked of regression.

She desired a restoration of untainted bloodlines, sanctioned unions, and arranged alliances.

Savvine had caught whispers that Helena was aligned with the conservative hardliners on the Bianchi elder council, many of whom were calling for the return of blood feuds.

Since her husband’s death, Helena has never stopped clawing for dominion of the family estate like a lioness who denied her throne.

She warred with her peers, made backdoor deals with rival clans, and, if rumors were true, ran an illegalkokofarm somewhere deep in the flotilla’s dark decks.

Savvine had no proof of it yet.

Still, one thing was certain. Helena was dangerous and would not stop until the Bianchi name was restored to her vision of dynastic supremacy.

Savvine’s pulse steadied as the woman disappeared from the ballroom’s doors.

She didn’t trust Helena. She also had no desire to marry her feckless playboy son.

Still, the woman was conniving, so Savvine would keep a close eye on her from now on.

Just as she was about to hit the bartender for that much-needed drink, a voice murmured behind her.

‘Keep your face straight, woman. We’ve got a problem.’

The voice came from her six.

Savvine didn’t jump.

Her nerves were well-trained.

However, her heart fell once when she swiveled to see Abby, one of her dearest friends, sporting a stricken look on her face.

She met the dark, curly-haired woman at university, and they instantly clicked, and since then, they’d always had each other’s backs.

Also theEterna’schief comms officer had her shit tight when it came to her role, and Savvine trusted her without doubt.

Now, she slipped up beside her, face pale.

Savvine clocked the worry in her blue eyes, braced and facing out, leaning on the bar counter.

‘If you’re interrupting me during the most important wedding of the year with a report, whatever you’re about toshare must be freakin’ serious. Hit me,’ Savvine murmured, her gaze still sweeping the room.

Abby didn’t answer immediately. Pursing her lips, vexed, which only ratcheted up Savvine’s concern.

‘Speak, woman. What’s going down?’