Chapter 110: Unraveling

Kaelen's POV

The contract lay spread across the conference table. Three signatures at the bottom. Mine, Zephyr's, Kieran's. A formal alliance against Damien's encroachment on our territories.

It should have felt like victory.

Instead, I felt nothing but the dull ache in my chest that had been there for six days straight.

"The patrol rotation looks solid," Zephyr said, tapping the document. "Two-hour shifts, overlapping coverage. He won't get through without us knowing."

Kieran leaned back in his chair, swirling whiskey in his glass. "And the trade routes? We need to ensure safe passage for goods between our territories."

I nodded mechanically. "My Beta will coordinate with yours. Weekly shipments, armed escorts."

The words came automatically. Professional. Detached.

But my wolf was restless. Pacing. Snarling at the bond that stretched taut and silent.

Two days ago, I'd humiliated her publicly. Made her kneel in the street while I wrapped my arm around Vespera. The look in her eyes still haunted me. Betrayal.

My wolf howled. Wrong. Mate. Go back.

But Vespera's words kept echoing. Seraphine was Damien's lover. Been groomed to be his formal mate.

It made sense. Too much sense.

Why else would Damien hunt her so relentlessly? Why else would she refuse to complete the bond?

But she let you mark her. Offered her neck freely. Would a spy do that?

Fuck, I didn't know anymore.

"Kaelen." Kieran's voice cut through my thoughts. "You look like shit."

"He's not wrong," Zephyr added. "Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine. Just tired."

Tired of not knowing who to trust. Eight years of loyalty versus three months of chaos.

Kieran stood, walking to the window overlooking the pack house grounds. Wolves already gathering for tonight's celebration. Something flickered in his expression. Amusement.

"You know what you need? A break from all this political bullshit." He gestured at the contracts. "When's the last time you actually relaxed?"

"I don't have time for—"

"It's your Spring Mating Celebration tonight, isn't it?" Kieran's grin widened. "Pack house is probably already decorated. Music, dancing, unmated wolves looking for their mates." He paused. "Should be quite the party."

My jaw tightened. "I have responsibilities."

"Which is exactly why you should go." Zephyr smiled. "One night of celebration won't hurt."

"Come on, Kaelen." Kieran's eyes glittered with mischief. "We came all this way. The least you can do is show us some Shadowmere hospitality. Besides..." He glanced back at the window. "I've heard your Spring celebrations are legendary. Very... primal."

Something in his tone set my teeth on edge.

But before I could refuse, the bond suddenly flared to life.

Emotion crashed through me. Anticipation. Nervous energy. And underneath it all—

Defiance.

My wolf's head snapped up.

She's here. At the pack house.

What the fuck is she doing here?

I can't guarantee I won't fall in love with another man before you decide to give her up.

Her words from that night. Cold. Final.

"Alright," I heard myself say. "One drink. Then I have work to do."

Kieran's smile turned predatory. "That's the spirit."

The pack house great hall was transformed.

Moonlight-colored silk draped from the rafters. Wildflowers woven into garlands hung along the walls. Candles and crystal chandeliers cast overlapping pools of warm light.

Young wolves filled the space. Dancing, laughing, the air thick with arousal and cologne and anticipation.

Several couples had already paired off, disappearing toward the upper floor guest rooms.

I took my place at the second-floor balcony with Zephyr and Kieran. A bottle of scotch appeared.

Below, the crowd moved like a living organism. Bodies pressed together. Hands wandering.

My wolf snarled. Restless. Hunting.

Find her. Find mate.

I scanned the crowd—

And then I saw her.

The air left my lungs.

Seraphine stood in the center of the dance floor.

The gray dress from the Moon Festival—she'd altered it. The hem now stopped mid-thigh. The straps thinned to delicate ribbons. The neckline plunged.

But it was her expression that hit me hardest. Bright. Carefree. Laughing.

At the wolf beside her.

He was tall. Six-two. Dark brown hair, broad shoulders, muscular arms visible beneath rolled shirtsleeves. His hand rested on her waist. Possessive.

And she was letting him.

My fingers crushed the armrest.

She'd said she might fall for another man. But I hadn't believed her.

The bond flared. Her emotions bleeding through. Excitement. Determination. Defiance.

She knows I'm here. She's doing this deliberately.

My wolf roared. Mine. Ours. Kill him.

But what if Vespera was right? What if this was all an act?

She looked so fucking real. The smile. The laughter. The way she tilted her head back, exposing her throat—

My mark. Still visible on her neck.

And she was offering it to another male.

"Interesting crowd tonight," Kieran remarked casually. But when I glanced over, he was watching me. That knowing smile played at his lips. "Lots of unmated wolves. Very... energetic."

He took a sip, then let his gaze drift to the dance floor. His eyes found Seraphine with unerring accuracy before flicking back to me.

Testing. Observing.

The bastard knew she was down there.

I didn't answer. All my focus was on Seraphine as she laughed at something the male said.

Her neck was exposed. Elegant. Unmarked except for my bite.

Mine, my wolf snarled. Ours. Make them see.

"Kaelen?" Zephyr's voice seemed far away. "Are you alright? You look tense."

Was she a spy playing her role? Or a broken mate seeking revenge?

I didn't fucking know anymore.

"I'm fine." The words came out clipped.

Kieran leaned forward, positioning himself so he had a perfect view of both me and the dance floor. "Actually, I wanted to ask you about something. The northern patrol routes—I think we should reconsider the timing."

"We just finalized that," I said flatly.

"True, but I was thinking..." He launched into a detailed analysis. Shift rotations. Guard placement. Supply routes.

All things we'd already covered. Twice.

His voice was casual, unhurried. But his eyes kept drifting between me and the scene below. Watching. Waiting.

He knows. He saw her before we even came down. He's doing this on purpose.

Trapping me here. Forcing me to watch.

But I couldn't call him out without revealing how distracted I was.

So I forced myself to listen. To nod.

All while watching Seraphine dance with another male.

His hand slid lower on her back. Almost to the curve of her hip.

The glass in my hand cracked. A hairline fracture.

Was this real? Was she genuinely moving on?

Or was this Damien's plan? Send her in. Make me fall. Then destroy me from the inside out?

"And then there's the matter of the trade caravans," Kieran continued, amusement dancing in his eyes as he glanced at my white-knuckled grip. "We should probably discuss security protocols in detail. How many guards per shipment? Three? Four?" He paused. "Or should we take our time and really think this through?"

The last question felt loaded. Like he was deliberately keeping me pinned here to watch.