Chapter 23 CHAPTER 23

Chapter 23 CHAPTER 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Andre’s POV

"Other room?" I ask, my voice sounding more grounded than I feel.

She nods, "The private suite, Dre. Ric already moved the ‘supplies’ there. I’m tired of the noise. I want you to myself."

"The night is still young, Olenna," I say, leaning down until my lips are brushing her ear, trying to inject some of that old, effortless charm into my tone. "We have all night, don't we? Let's have all the fun here first. Let's dance, let's drink, and then we can go back and fuck dirty later."

I pull back, watching her expression. I’m praying she takes the bait. I’m praying she wants the spotlight more than she wants me behind closed doors right now. If 

Olenna pouts, her lower lip trembling in a way that’s more calculated than cute. "But Dre, everyone’s already seen us. We’ve done the dance. We’ve cut the cake. What else is there?"

"There’s the power," I say, playing to her vanity. I gesture toward the crowd, the witches watching us from the shadows, the Alphas from the other wings measuring our every move. The vampires and hybrids are also at another corner. "If we leave now, it looks like we’re hiding. Stay. Show them who the Queen is. Let them watch us own this floor for one more hour."

She hesitates, her gaze flickering to Yellow and the other witches. I can see the gears turning. She loves the attention; she thrives on being the envy of every female in this room.

"One more hour?" she bargains, her fingers trailing down my arm.

"One hour," I promise, though the words feel like ash in my mouth. "Then I’m all yours."

She smiles and turns back to the dance floor, her hand slipping into mine. "Fine. But you owe me, Andre. I want you at your best tonight."

"Always," I say with a smile.

We begin to dance. I lead her through the rhythmic, heavy beat of the music, and I carefully feed her drinks, the strong ones, the ones I know will weaken her or make her sleepy. Every time her glass is half-empty, I’m there with a fresh one, watching her composure slowly unravel.

She is all over me, her hands moving from my shoulders to my chest, her touch possessive and heavy. "I can't believe that the future king of Gray Ridge is all mine to have," she whispers, her words beginning to slur.

"Happy?" I ask, my voice low.

She snorts, falling into me, her weight becoming harder to manage. "Care for another drink?"

She takes the glass from me, her movements clumsy. "Of course I'm happy. You think I worked so hard to get Sephine out of the way for nothing? I'm the happiest person on earth..."

She drinks deeply, her face getting redder with every passing minute. "I love you so much, Dre. I went through such a hard time last year when you chased Sephine around everywhere." She snorts again, already swaying dangerously against me.

"You know how hard it was for me?" she asks, her eyes unfocused. "I cried almost every night wishing she’d just die. Why couldn't you look at me the way you looked at her?"

She falls onto my body, her strength finally failing. I hold her close, my hands resting over her back as I steady her. She buries her face into my chest, her breathing becoming shallow and heavy.

"I don't want to see you around that human girl..." she slurs out, her voice barely a thread. "Because I'm scared... so scared... that..."

She dozes off mid-sentence, her body going completely limp in my arms. I sigh, the tension in my shoulders finally snapping as I lift her into my arms immediately.

I force my way with her in my arms out of the Great Hall, heading toward the private suite. The heavy bass of the music begins to fade as I navigate the quiet, torch-lit corridors. I lead her to the bed and lay her down quietly, the emerald fabric of her dress spilling over the dark sheets. I remove her shoes so she can be comfortable while sleeping, 

"I don't want that new girl in this school. My wolf doesn't lie when it senses danger, Dre..." she mumbles, her eyes half-closed as she reaches out, her fingers weakly holding onto my hand.

I swallow hard, the weight of her words and her earlier confession about Sephine pressing against my chest. "Sleep. Let's talk tomorrow."

"You're not going to her, are you?" she asks, her voice a fragile thread of insecurity. The one that is rare to be found on her. 

I snort softly, slipping into the bed next to her just to appease her fading consciousness. I lift her gently so she can rest on me, her head lolling against my shoulder.

"Remember, I just swore to love you forever. That's what I'm going to do," I say and begin to pat her shoulder gently, a steady, rhythmic motion until her breathing evens out and she finally slips away into oblivion.

I wait for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling and feeling the phantom sensation of a different pulse against my palm. Then, my phone begins to vibrate. I pull it out, the screen illuminating the dim room. It’s Amira, my sister.

I answer, my voice a hushed growl so I don't wake the girl beside me. "What is it by this time?"

"Where are you?" she asks. In the background, I can hear a chaotic symphony of shouting and the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. "Is something going on at your diner?"

My blood turns to ice. "What are you talking about?"
"It’s... Henna," Amira says, her voice strained over the noise. "And I can't reach your friend, Ric. Andre, you need to get here." 

"What is it?" I roar into the phone, already half-off the bed.

"Just get here fast!" Amira’s voice is nearly drowned out by a sickening crunch of wood.

I don’t even look back at Olenna. I bolt from the suite, my dress shoes skidding on the stone floor as I tear through the silent corridors of the private wing. By the time I hit the courtyard, my lungs are burning with the cold night air. I jump onto my bike, the engine screaming as I kick it into life, and I don't care who sees the future King of Gray Ridge racing away from his own betrothed’s party.

I push the machine to its absolute limit, the trees blurring into a dark tunnel. If Ric isn't answering, it means they’ve isolated him or worse.

I reach the diner in record time. I don't even bother with the kickstand; I let the bike dump to the asphalt, the metal scraping with a shower of sparks, and I’m moving before it even stops sliding. I burst through the front door, my chest heaving, my wolf clawing at the back of my throat to be let out.

"The rude, arrogant jerk is finally here!!!"

The shout barely registers before an empty ceramic jug is hauled straight at my head.