Chapter 33

Tristan POV

“The hall was suffocating.”

I studied her, my wolf straining to catch the truth. She was lying. Not about leaving, but about why I could tell that much but I didn't bother trying to press for the information.

My gaze shifted past her, to the shadows where Kieran likely lingered even though I couldn't see him at all.

Isla stepped closer, forcing herself to meet my eyes as she grabbed my arm

“Let's leave” she drawled pulling him along

“Who was with you?” I asked and she flinched

“No one,” she said too fast. My wolf snarled at the lie.

“Don’t lie to me, Isla. I can smell him on you”

Her chin lifted stubbornly.

“I said no one. And even if there was, why does it matter?”

“ It's not like you’re jealous.” She drawled and I laughed looking away but not saying anything.

That was not what it felt like, though.

I told myself it couldn’t be jealousy. Isla wasn’t Viviana and she wasn’t the Luna I had chosen.

She was a placeholder, a contract, nothing more.

But yet the thought of her standing in the garden with my brother—my brother, of all people—made my vision blur red.

“Did you come out here to meet him?” I asked, my voice low, dangerous.

Her eyes flashed.

“Of course not. I don’t even want him near me. I asked him to leave.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t back down.

“Because he wouldn’t.”

I stared at her for a long moment, my wolf pacing behind my ribs, torn between anger and something else I refused to name.

Finally, I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair.

“You shouldn’t be alone with him. Ever.

He’ll twist you if you let him.” I mumbled and she laughed her lips curving into a humorless smile.

“Funny, that you should say that, “ she replied and I stilled

“ What do you mean “ I asked and she looked away

“Nothing”

I grabbed her wrist before she could turn away, pulling her closer until I could feel the hum of the bond between us. Her eyes widened, her lips parting as the pulse of it throbbed in the air.

“You’re mine,” I said, the words slipping out rough, possessive.

“Not his.”

Her gaze flicked down, then back up, and for a heartbeat, something raw passed between us—heat, anger, desire tangled into one.

Then she pulled her hand free, straightening her shoulders.

“You don’t get to claim me when it suits you, Tristan. Not when you spend the rest of the time pretending I don’t exist.”

The words cut and while I wanted to argue with her my gut remind me that she was right,.this was never meant to be real, and she wasn’t supposed to matter.

Instead, I swallowed hard and turned away, my chest tight.

“Come on. The elders will notice our absence.”

She hesitated, then nodded, falling into step beside me as I led her back toward the hall.But the scent of Kieran still clung faintly to her gown. And no matter how tightly I clenched my fists, I couldn’t stop the thought from gnawing at me.

Was it jealousy? If it was,what the hell did I have to be jealous about?

Isla POV

I followed Tristan back into the hall mostly because I didn't want to be outside with Kieran anymore where he could keep arousing heat in my gut.

His aunt was still at the table and she looked up at us when we got there

“ I see you've been found “ she said scathingly and I sighed the woman wasn't going to be nice even tonight, she looked like she had swallowed a lemon.

“Lady Rhea, I hope you enjoyed the dinner” I asked and she shrugged

“ It was exactly what I expected” she replied and I smiled, u was certain that was not a compliment.

“ I'm glad, I'll have to take my leave now

I don't feel right “ I said and she nodded, I bowed to him and then walked to the stairs.

I was so tired I could barely drag myself up them it was like the weight of the night—the banquet, the staring had all just crashed down on me until even my bones ached.

Tristan reached for my arm and stopped me

“Are you sick “ he asked and I looked to him

“ I'm fine but I think you should go back to your aunt before she has an aneurysm” I urged and he stopped walking, I left Tristan behind without waiting for him to saying anything else.

Around me the servants scattered like ants to clean up the mess of the day, I didn't have the energy to give any pep talks or well done.

The heels of my dress shoes clicked against the marble as I walked back to my chambers, every step heavier than the last. All I wanted was to collapse into bed, bury myself under the sheets, and pretend none of this was real— at least for six months.

Who knows by the time I woke from sleep, Viviana would be back and I could get back to my life the way it had been the moment I opened the door, every scrap of exhaustion bled away.

Berrilyn was waiting for me.

She stood near the window, the soft silver glare of the moonlight bathing her honey-blonde hair, it caught the glow like she’d planned it.

She turned slowly, a smile curving her lips, the kind of smile I’d once thought was soft and genuine but now only looked like poison dressed in silk.

“What are you doing here?” I asked keeping my voice flat, brittle.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?” she purred, her eyes glittering with mock hurt.

I shut the door behind me harder than I meant to.

“We stopped being friends the day you crawled into Richard’s bed.”

Her smile sharpened.

“Ah. Straight to the wound, as always. You’ve always had that tongue, Isla. Sharp enough to cut yourself if you’re not careful.”

“ But you always did hide it well” she mused as if that was the most fascinating thing to her right now and maybe it was.

“Say what you came to say, Berrilyn. I don’t have time for your games.”

“I’m not in the mood for it either.” I stepped further into the room, putting the table between us like a barrier.

She stepped closer, her gown whispering across the floor, her perfume thick and cloying.

Her eyes glittered, sharp and mocking.

“You think you’ve won, don’t you? Sitting here in The Ridge, wearing the title of Luna like it fits. But let’s not pretend, Isla. It doesn’t. Not on you.”

“And yet, here I am.”

“For now.” She tilted her head, her smile hardening.

“But it won’t last. You’re an omega. And not just any omega—a red omega. The most hated, the lowest of the low. “ she mused

“ Do you really think anyone would ever accept you? Did you really think anyone could love you?”