Chapter 163
Elsa
In the changing room, I checked my watch—no calls, just the alarm I'd set earlier as an escape strategy. "Thank fuck," I muttered, relieved my plan had worked. I leaned against the cool tile wall, breathing deeply to calm my racing thoughts, my wet hair dripping onto my shoulders.
Lucas was back in Twin Moon City. The knowledge settled in my stomach like a stone, making me feel slightly nauseous.
Was he the one following me? The thought surfaced unbidden. For the past few weeks, I'd had the unsettling sensation of being watched. Twice I'd caught glimpses of someone ducking out of sight when I turned around. I'd dismissed it as paranoia, a side effect of the stress from my mother's illness and my complicated situation with Drake.
But what if it was Lucas?
"Shit, shit, shit," I whispered, pacing the small space like a caged animal. I closed my eyes, remembering Sophia's warning from our last coffee meeting. "Be careful around Emma Watson," she'd said, stirring her latte with unusual intensity. "That woman doesn't have good intentions toward you. I've heard things."
When I'd pressed her for details, Sophia had been frustratingly vague, mentioning only rumors about Emma's involvement in some pack politics that had turned ugly.
I yanked my robe on with such force that the fabric strained at the seams, trying to make sense of Emma's game. She clearly wanted to provoke me by mentioning Lucas, perhaps hoping I'd make a move that would anger Drake. The irony was that I already planned to end things with Drake once and for all, as soon as my mother was stable enough.
I just needed to hold on a little longer, play the obedient omega assistant until I could make my escape. Drake's possessiveness was becoming increasingly suffocating, and I couldn't—wouldn't—spend another decade under his control.
"Never a-fucking-gain," I vowed to my reflection, my eyes blazing with determination.
As I gathered my things, I resolved to call Sophia later. If Lucas really was back in town, she might know more about his intentions.
---
As I rounded the corner toward my room, I heard hushed voices from a secluded alcove. I slowed my steps, recognizing Ava's distinctive perfume—an expensive blend of jasmine and vanilla that always seemed too heavy for her delicate features.
"Joseph, please," Ava's voice was strained with emotion. "You can't just throw away what we have."
I froze, not wanting to intrude but also unwilling to announce my presence and embarrass them. I took a silent step backward, pressing myself against the wall, heart hammering in my chest.
"There's nothing to throw away, Ava." Joseph's voice was cold, controlled. "We had an arrangement. It's over now."
The tension in the air was palpable, a heavy cloud of pheromones that made my skin prickle uncomfortably. I shifted my weight, trying not to make a sound.
"Because you're getting married?" Ava's voice cracked. "That didn't seem to bother you last month when you were in my bed."
I winced at her bluntness, my cheeks flushing despite myself. Office romances were complicated enough without adding pack dynamics into the mix.
"Ava." Joseph's tone held a warning. "This isn't the place."
"When is the place?" she demanded. "You've been avoiding me for weeks! At least have the decency to end things properly."
There was a rustle of movement, and I saw Ava reaching for him, perhaps trying to initiate a kiss. But he pushed away.
"I am ending things properly," Joseph said, his voice lower now. "Right here, right now. It's over, Ava."
"Marry me instead," Ava pleaded, desperation evident in her voice. "I've proven my loyalty to you. I can be a good wife, a good mother to your children."
The silence that followed was crushing. I held my breath, my nails digging crescents into my palms.
"The Moonlight family would never accept you," Joseph finally said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You know that."
I felt a painful twist of recognition in my chest, my stomach dropping as if I'd missed a step on a staircase. How many times had I sensed the same unspoken message from Drake? That I was good enough to warm his bed, to handle his business affairs, but never good enough to be acknowledged publicly as his mate?
Ava made a choked sound, something between a sob and a laugh. "So that's it? Years of my life wasted on a man who's too weak to choose his own mate?"
"Watch yourself," Joseph growled. "This conversation is over."
Footsteps approached rapidly, and I pressed deeper into the shadows as Joseph stormed past, his face a mask of controlled fury. Seconds later, Ava emerged, her makeup smeared by tears, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
I held my breath until she disappeared down the opposite hallway, then sagged against the wall, oddly shaken by what I'd witnessed. The parallels to my own situation were too close for comfort.
---
Back in my room, I paced restlessly, Joseph's words echoing in my head: "The Moonlight family would never accept you."
How familiar that sentiment was. Different pack, same prejudice.
I'd spent ten years as Drake's shadow, his dirty little secret. Ten years watching him escort a parade of suitable female wolves to pack functions while I managed his schedule and warmed his bed in private. Ten years pretending it didn't cut like a knife every time someone like Vera Horton was paraded before the pack as his potential mate.
"Goddamn pack politics," I muttered, kicking off my slippers with such force that one hit the wall with a satisfying thud. "Fuck all of it!"
The worst part was knowing that despite everything—despite the humiliation and the secrets—some traitorous part of me still responded to him. My body was conditioned to his touch, his scent, his commands. And he knew it, used it against me mercilessly.
I dropped onto the edge of the bed, suddenly exhausted, my shoulders slumping forward. Would I have ended up like Ava if I hadn't decided to leave? Desperately clinging to a relationship that was never meant to be legitimate? The thought made me feel physically ill.
My phone buzzed with an incoming call. Drake's name flashed on the screen. I stared at it for two rings, my finger hovering over the decline button.
"Just a few more weeks," I reminded myself, taking a deep breath before answering. Until I was truly free, I needed to play by his rules.
"Yes?" I answered, keeping my voice neutral despite the way my hand trembled.
"Come to the Rose Dining Room," Drake said without preamble. "Now."
His tone left no room for refusal. The Alpha command in his voice made my skin tingle unpleasantly, a shiver running down my spine.
"I'll be there in ten minutes," I replied, already moving to the closet to find something appropriate to wear, my movements jerky with tension.
"Make it five," he said, and hung up.
I stared at the phone, anger bubbling in my chest like molten lava. "Arrogant bastard," I hissed, throwing the phone onto the bed with enough force to make it bounce. "Who the fuck do you think you are?" Even as the words left my mouth, I quickened my movements, hating myself a little for the automatic compliance.