Chapter 28
Isla POV
The elders rose one by one, from the table until Rhea and Tristan stood at the end of the table, Rhea grabbed the goblet of wine from the desk and raised it up offering blessings to the bond that supposedly tied me to Tristan.
She mumbled prayers to the moon in low voices and I repeated the words as instructed, my voice steady even though I knew they meant nothing because this wasn’t real.
It was a performance, a carefully constructed one but a performance nonetheless still, I would play my part. I lifted the chalice, let the bitter wine burn my tongue.
Then we sat down for the meal as dinner began, platters were passed down the table, goblets filled and refilled.
The conversation around the table started off stiffly,like they were all weighing their every word before they spoke but soon enough after a few glasses of wine everyone loosened up.
Elder Marcellus droned on about border disputes and a few times Lady Rhea interjected with pointed remarks about their alliances with the neighbor packs, sometimes she looked to Tristan for confirmation and he answered curtly.
“ I was just considering sending, a few envoys to–” she started and the doors opened again and Kieran walked into the space
The air changed the moment he stepped inside. It wasn’t just me who felt it—every wolf in the room stiffened, their voices faltering, their gazes sharpening with unease.
Rhea looked like she would have scowled of it would not have been inconvenient for her. Instead her mouth pinched into a thin line, Tristan wasn't any better, his jaw clenched in annoyance or rage I wasn't sure. The bond between brothers was strained, that much was clear.
I could hear my own heartbeat hammering against my ribs so I guess I wasn't any better either.
“Apologies,” Kieran drawled, his voice smooth, almost mocking.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“You are,” Tristan said flatly underneath his breath and I pinched his arm, the tension rolled across the hall like a thunderstorm and the elders exchanged uneasy glances,
“Forgive my tardiness,” his eyes flicking to me, lingering just long enough to make my skin heat.
“I couldn’t miss congratulating my brother and his Luna.”
Tristan’s jaw worked, his voice clipped. “You weren’t invited.”
“Ah,” Kieran said easily, pulling out a chair without waiting for permission.
“But when has that ever stopped me?”
I looked away quickly, pretending to study the silverware before me, he sat back, sipping his wine, and gestured to the table
“ Go on, keep talking, you can pretend I'm not here” he whispered and I frowned looking away from him and to my plate, my mind drifting.
My wolf paced within me, and each time I glance up from the plates in front of me, Kieran eyes met mine, I looked away my fingers tightening around my goblet, my gaze scanned the room once and then stopped at a face that felt too familiar, that it left me frozen.
At the far end of the table, just beyond Kieran, a face I knew all too well tilted into the light.
My breath caught.
Richard .
My ex.
Sitting there in the Ridge’s banquet hall like he belonged, his easy smile sharp enough to slice open every scar I thought I’d buried.
Beside him—laughing, leaning close—was Berrilyn. My best friend.
My chest constricted as the rest of the table blurred. Tristan speaking, Rhea pressing him, elders muttering about treaties—it all faded beneath the roar of blood in my ears.
I gripped the edge of the table until my knuckles whitened, forcing myself to breathe, to think.
All I could see was Richard . Richard who had once held me, whispered promises into my skin, then discarded me like I was nothing.
Richard who knew pieces of me no one else in this room did. His gaze swept casually across the hall, then landed on me and his smile dropped as recognition filled his eyes almost immediately and he tried to look away from me.
My stomach lurched.
Berrilyn leaned into him as if she hadn't noticed his changed posture, her lips curving into a small smile. She whispered something in his ear, and he forced a laugh looking away from me.
They were here. Together.
And I had no idea why.
Tristan’s hand brushed mine under the table, startling me. My head snapped toward him. His eyes were sharp, assessing, as if he’d noticed the shift in my scent, the tremor in my pulse.
“Something wrong?” he murmured, low enough for only me to hear.
I swallowed hard, pasting on a smile for the benefit of the watching elders.
“No,” I whispered back.
“Everything’s perfect.”
But it wasn’t.
Nothing about this was perfect.
And as my gaze flicked once more to Richard and Berrilyn, a truth settled like lead in my stomach.
My past wasn’t done with me yet