Chapter Twenty-Four: Simon's POV
I'd known for weeks the Carters were circling, testing an alliance that had always been more convenience than trust.
Robert's proposition at the gala hadn't surprised me. A marriage between our families, Isabella offered up like a chess piece on a board where everyone was calculating their next move.
If I refused, he'd find leverage elsewhere, probably with the Andreas family, those bastards who'd already cost me too much blood and territory.
If I agreed, Knox would never let me hear the end of it, his voice already a constant snarl in my mind, reminding me that only Carol's scent mattered, that everything else was a distraction from what my wolf already knew.
The drive back from the Carter estate had been silent. Carol sat beside me in the darkness, her face turned toward the window as city lights blurred past.
She'd worn that careful mask all evening—the one she'd learned to put on when she felt out of place among wolves who looked at her like something less.
I'd watched her hold herself together through Robert's veiled threats and Isabella's calculated interest, watched her smile that empty smile that never reached her eyes.
Every instinct in me screamed to pull her out of there, to take her somewhere those vultures couldn't touch her.
But I stayed still, playing the game because that's what Alphas did—protect the pack by showing no weakness, even when everything was falling apart beneath our feet.
Hours later, the house was quiet, the kind of silence that made every thought echo too loud.
I sat in my study, whiskey untouched on the desk, trying to focus on Leon's reports about our eastern defenses, about the gaps Andreas had torn open that we were still scrambling to fill.
The numbers didn't add up the way I needed them to. Losses too steep, resources stretched too thin.
Robert Carter knew it—I'd seen it in his eyes when he mentioned casualties, when he offered his daughter like she was the solution to problems he could smell on me.
A knock at the door cut through my thoughts, sharp and unexpected at this hour.
I knew who it was before she spoke—Carol's heartbeat was distinct even through the heavy oak, faster than it should be, carrying that edge of anxiety she tried so hard to hide.
"Simon?" Her voice came through the door. I could hear her forcing herself to sound calm. "Is the Valodin family in crisis?"
I didn't answer immediately, letting the silence stretch as I considered what to tell her, how much truth she could handle.
When I finally spoke, my voice came out rougher than intended. "Come in."
The door opened and she stepped inside, shoulders squared like she was bracing for a fight, ready to push against whatever walls I tried to put between her and the truth.
Her eyes met mine across the study, and I saw the determination there, the stubborn refusal to be placated or dismissed.
She'd changed out of the gown, now dressed in simple clothes that made her look younger, more vulnerable.
Something in my chest tightened at the sight of her standing there, so close yet keeping that careful distance.
"You don't need to worry about these things," I said, the words coming out more curtly than I meant. Instinct made me want to shield her from what we were facing. "The family's business isn't your concern."
Her eyebrows drew together, that familiar flash of defiance crossing her face. When she spoke, her voice had an edge I rarely heard directed at me. "I'm Osmon's daughter. I have a right to know the truth."
The mention of Osmon's name hit harder than it should have. Guilt and obligation twisted together in my gut.
I'd made him a promise before he died, sworn I'd protect Carol no matter what.
Now she stood here demanding answers I couldn't give her, pushing into territory that would only put her in more danger.
The Andreas family had already proven they were willing to burn everything I'd built to the ground—I couldn't let them see how much she mattered to me, couldn't give them another weapon to use against us.
"Leon," I said, my voice carrying Alpha command weight, not looking away from Carol's eyes. "Take Carol back to her room."
She opened her mouth to protest, anger flashing across her features, but I cut her off before she could speak. "This conversation is over."
I watched Leon lead her away. Her spine stayed rigid with fury, and she didn't look back at me even though I could feel her wanting to.
The door closed, and the silence that followed felt heavier than before, thick with all the things I hadn't said, with the distance I kept forcing between us even when every instinct screamed to pull her close and never let go.
Knox stirred in my consciousness, his presence a dark coil of frustration and hunger.
"You're a fool," he growled. "She's standing right there, wanting answers, wanting you, and you send her away like she's nothing."
I ignored him, reaching for the whiskey and downing it in one swallow, welcoming the burn as it slid down my throat.
The alcohol did nothing to quiet Knox's snarling or the ache that had settled deep in my bones.
My phone buzzed on the desk, an unknown number.
I stared at it for a long moment before answering, already knowing this wouldn't be good news.
"Simon." Isabella's voice poured through the speaker, smooth and calculated, carrying an undercurrent of amusement. "Father said you agreed to the arrangement. I heard you had a difficult evening—family troubles, lots of stress. I happen to be in the area. Want to meet? Talk about the future, maybe help you relax a little."
I should have hung up right there, should have shut down whatever game she was playing before it began.
But my mind was full of Carol's retreating figure, the anger in her eyes when I dismissed her.
All evening the heat building under my skin—frustration, need, and something darker Knox kept pushing to the surface—made me hesitate just long enough to be dangerous.
"Fine," I heard myself say. The word tasted like ash even as I spoke it.
I hung up before she could respond, already regretting the decision but too far gone to care.
Knox was silent for once, waiting, a predator watching to see what I'd do next.
Isabella arrived faster than should have been possible, which meant she'd already been close by, already planning this regardless of my answer.
She swept into my study like she owned it.
Her perfume too strong, movements too practiced. Everything about her calculated to seduce and nothing about it touching the ice that had settled in my veins.
"Simon," she purred, moving closer until she stood right in front of me, fingers trailing across my chest. The gesture meant to be enticing but only made my skin crawl. "Father said we could move forward with the marking. Make it official, bind our families together properly."
I caught her wrist before her hand could wander lower, my grip firm enough to make her pause. "The marking isn't happening yet."
She blinked, surprise flickering across her carefully composed features, but she didn't pull away.
Instead she leaned in closer, breath warm against my neck, voice dropping to a whisper. "Then what do you want from me tonight?"
The question hung heavy with implication, and I felt Knox surge forward, felt the beast inside rising with all its hunger and rage and desperate need for something I couldn't have.
Carol's face flashed through my mind—her eyes when she'd demanded truth, the curve of her neck, that wild berry scent clinging to her skin that drove me insane every time I got close enough to breathe it in.
I shoved Isabella against the wall, my movements rougher than intended, years of control fracturing under the weight of everything I'd been holding back.
Her dress tore under my hands, the sound of ripping fabric obscenely loud in the quiet study.
She gasped but didn't resist, her body trembling against mine.
I closed my eyes and saw Carol—her skin, her breath catching, her amber eyes looking up at me with something other than anger.
When I entered Isabella, it was with a violence that surprised even me, my body moving on instinct while my mind was somewhere else entirely, lost in fantasies of the one person I couldn't have.
And then I heard it—my own voice, rough and raw, saying the name that had been burning in my throat all evening:
"Carol."
Isabella's body went rigid beneath me. Her sharp intake of breath cut through the haze of lust and self-loathing consuming me.
I froze, reality crashing down like ice water. When I opened my eyes, I saw fury and humiliation blazing in Isabella's face.
She shoved me away, stumbling back several steps, hands shaking as she tried to fix her torn dress. "You'll regret this, Simon," she said, voice thick with rage and shame. "You'll regret every second of tonight."
Then she was gone, practically running from the study. I was left standing there in the wreckage of my own stupidity, Knox's laughter echoing in my head like a death knell.
"You lost control," he said. But there was satisfaction in his tone, dark pleasure at seeing me finally crack. "You called out for her. You can't fight this forever, Simon. You can't keep denying what we both know is true."
I sank into my chair, hands covering my face. The weight of my failures pressing down until I could barely breathe.
Isabella wouldn't spread this around—her pride wouldn't allow her to admit she'd been called another woman's name during sex—but the damage was done, my control shattered, the careful balance I'd maintained now tipping toward chaos.
Knox was right about one thing: I couldn't keep fighting this, couldn't keep pretending I could protect Carol and want her at the same time, couldn't keep believing I was strong enough to honor Osmon's dying wish while my wolf howled for his daughter like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.
The truth settled over me like a shroud, heavy and inescapable: I'd already lost this battle the moment I'd saved her from that casino eight years ago, the moment I'd breathed in her scent and felt something inside me recognize her as mine.
Everything since then had been a slow descent into this moment, this reckoning with the reality that no amount of discipline or duty could change what my wolf had known from the beginning.
Carol was my mate, my salvation and my damnation, and I was running out of time to figure out which one would destroy us first.