Chapter 32: Dangerous Games

Amelia's POV

The alcohol swimming through my system made everything pleasantly fuzzy around the edges. I blinked slowly, trying to organize my thoughts as Carlos watched me with those warm, attentive eyes. My mind wandered through the wreckage of the past two months, searching for anything good.

Nothing. Not a single happy memory surfaced.

Since discovering Alexander was my fated mate, my life had spiraled into one disaster after another. Daniel's betrayal, the Luna Festival disaster. Nathan's exile. The public humiliation at the scholarship competition. And tonight—watching my best friend find her perfect match while my own destined partner demanded me to write a blood oath.

"You're frowning," Carlos said, sliding closer on the plush bench until our knees almost touched. "What's got you looking so serious?"

I hadn't noticed him moving closer, but I didn't pull away. His proximity felt... normal. Human. Uncomplicated.

"Just thinking about life," I said, the words slipping out easier with the alcohol loosening my tongue. "Nothing worth talking about."

Carlos leaned in, his cologne mingling with the whiskey on his breath. "Forget about all that. Tonight is for leaving troubles behind." His hand settled gently over mine. "Just enjoy this moment."

My pulse quickened at the contact. It had been so long since anyone had touched me without ulterior motives or power dynamics at play. Just simple human connection.

As he shifted closer, the sleeve of my dress slipped slightly, revealing the angry red scratches on my upper arm. Carlos's eyes narrowed, his carefree expression shifting to concern.

"What happened here?" he asked, gently touching the edge of the bandage.

I instinctively pulled my arm back, tugging the sleeve into place. "It's nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing," Carlos persisted, his voice soft but insistent. "Those look like fresh wounds."

The alcohol made me less guarded than usual. "Got into a fight with an evil witch," I muttered, thinking of the confrontation with Vanessa in the morning.

To my surprise, Carlos's concerned expression melted into an amused smile. "So Buttercup isn't just a costume, huh?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, momentarily distracted.

"Well, Buttercup never backed down from a fight either," he said with a wink. "Though I hope whoever you tangled with looks worse."

"You know what I see when I look at you?" he asked, his voice dropping lower. "I see someone extraordinary trying to convince herself she's ordinary."

Our eyes locked, and something electric passed between us. Carlos's gaze dropped briefly to my lips, then back to my eyes, the question clear in his expression.

He leaned forward slowly, giving me every chance to pull away. I didn't move. The alcohol made everything dreamy, surreal. A rebellious voice inside me whispered: Why not? Alexander clearly doesn't want me anyway.

Carlos was inches from my face when it happened.

A sharp pain shot through my chest, as if someone had grabbed my heart and squeezed. My wolf—silent all evening thanks to the alcohol—suddenly howled in protest. The mate bond flared to life with such intensity that I gasped.

Images of Alexander and Cassandra at the Luna Festival flashed through my mind. His hands on her waist. Their almost marking ceremony that I'd interrupted by fainting.

"I could kiss him back," I thought recklessly. "Give Alexander a taste of his own medicine."

But another voice—the small-town girl raised with traditional values—countered: "Really, Amelia? First time in a bar and you're already kissing strangers?"

As Carlos moved closer, a wave of emotion not my own crashed over me. Raw anger. Possessiveness. Jealousy.

My head snapped up, eyes drawn automatically to the VIP section on the second floor. Through the crowd and dim lighting, I found Alexander staring directly at me, his eyes glowing with that faint golden light only another wolf would notice. His jaw was clenched tight, his knuckles white around his glass.

A jolt of cold fear shattered my alcohol-induced courage. I jerked back from Carlos, shaking my head, my face burning with a mixture of fear and embarrassment. "I-I can't," I stammered, my face burning with embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

Instead of looking annoyed, Carlos eased back, his expression understanding. "Hey, no pressure," he said, removing his hand from mine but staying seated. "What happened, Buttercup? Something made you hit the brakes."

I fumbled for words, unsure how to explain. Was Carlos human or wolf? I couldn't risk mentioning mates if he was human.

"I have a... boyfriend," I finally said, the word feeling ridiculous when applied to Alexander.

Carlos raised an eyebrow. "Didn't seem like it a minute ago."

"It's complicated," I sighed. "He's arrogant, cold, and not exactly a gentleman..." The alcohol made me brutally honest. "But I can't just... you know."

"The complicated ones are always the hardest to shake," Carlos nodded sympathetically. "Though he sounds like a real piece of work."

"You have no idea," I muttered.

We'd reached an awkward impasse when I heard Isabelle's voice calling my name over the music. I turned to see her searching the crowd, Wesley beside her.

"My friends," I explained to Carlos, already standing. "I should go."

"Amelia!" Isabelle shouted again, her voice tinged with worry.

I moved away from Carlos, grateful for the interruption. "Thanks for the company," I said hastily, then headed toward Isabelle.

"Amelia!" Isabelle rushed forward when she spotted me. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"

I embraced her, forcing a smile. "I just needed some quiet time to think. Sorry I worried you."

"Are you okay?" she asked, her eyes searching mine.

"I'm fine," I assured her, then genuinely smiled. "Congratulations, you two. I'm really happy for you. Truly."

Isabelle squeezed my hand. "Thanks, Lia. But it's late—we should probably head out."

I nodded, relieved at the suggestion. As we made our way toward the exit, I couldn't resist glancing back one last time.

What I saw made me stop mid-step. Carlos was now upstairs in the VIP section, engaged in conversation with Alexander. There was no tension in Carlos's posture—he looked completely at ease, even smiling. Alexander, however, looked thunderous, his expression dark and forbidding.

Had they known each other all along? What were they saying?

A thousand questions raced through my mind, but Isabelle tugged my arm, pulling me toward the door.

"Come on, let's get out of here," she said.

With one final look at the two men, I let my friends lead me into the cool night air, leaving behind the music, the memories, and the mystery of what exactly had just happened.