Chapter 27 27. Mad
Tabitha’s POV
Once the introductions are done, food and drinks start coming out, and the meeting turns into a formal reception. Mom slips into the crowd and starts socializing with the other pack members. Luckily, she is able to work her social butterfly magic and easily blend in to the crowd. As someone who used to be a part of this pack, this is basically just her catching up to old friends. And to others who are not exactly fond of her, well, they don’t dare say anything rude to her face while Alpha Emery is around. At least for now, they treat her with basic civility. That’s good for now.
As for me, I choose to keep to the side of the room and sip my drink quietly. I’m content to watch my mother look more like herself than she has in a long time. It makes me feel a little better. As long as she’s happy, I can survive the rest of the night.
The party stretches on for a few more hours, and eventually, the pressure in my bladder becomes impossible to ignore. I need to pee. This is what I get for drinking my way to this party. I set my drink down and quietly slip out of the reception hall, making my way through the long corridor toward the bathrooms.
As I turn the corner, a low, muffled sound catches my attention. It sounds like there is someone—no, definitely more than one person—inside the bathroom. It sounds like they are arguing… about something. Or not? I’m not really sure. But it doesn’t take a werewolves’ ear to catch the evidently male’s voice inside.
Why would a man be inside a ladies’ bathroom?
I slow down, footsteps light as I inch closer. I’m unsure whether I should still proceed or not. But I really need to pee.
Ah, screw it. I’m just gonna take a quick leak and get out.
I push open the door, determined to ignore whoever’s inside, but I freeze the moment I see what’s happening. Yennifer Wix is pressed against the counter, her back to me, her dress rumpled and her lipstick smeared. Jace is facing the door, his body practically flush against hers, one hand tangled in the fabric at her hip. His lips are on hers—until the moment he spots me. His eyes widen in horror, and he jerks back like he’s been caught on fire. But it’s too late. I already saw everything.
“Tabitha—”
I don’t stay long enough to hear the rest of Jace’s words. I turn and bolt, my pulse thundering in my ears. I hear him call my name again, but I keep running, faster and faster, until the party noise fades behind me and all that’s left is the burning in my chest and the sting in my eyes. I forget about the need to pee. I forget about the dress I’m dragging or the makeup smudging on my face. I even forget what Mom told me earlier back at the estate—that I should be patient, that I should try to make it through tonight no matter how uncomfortable it got.
Right now, I don’t care.
Right now, I just need to get out of here.
I don’t know why it hurts this much. I shouldn’t feel this way. I told myself I never wanted them. I told myself I would break the bond the first chance I got. That this connection meant nothing. That I would never fall for any of them.
But still, it hurts.
Jace was the first one I started to trust. I didn’t even realize it was happening until it already had. It crept in slowly, like the way he reached for me when I was bleeding in the greenhouse. He didn’t just help me. He took me to his room and tended to my wound. He looked at me like I was someone worth worrying about. And the others did too.
That was the first time I thought maybe I was wrong about them.
I didn’t expect. I thought—stupidly, maybe—that we were starting to understand each other. That this wasn’t just some twisted game or obligation. That even if we were forced into this bond, we could still find something real inside it.
And yet there he was, pressed up against another girl like none of it meant anything.
If Jace could do that so easily, what about the others? Were they all just taking turns playing nice when it suited them? Smiling when I needed comfort, only to slip away when I wasn’t looking? Was I the joke? Is this their new method of bullying me? Of making Chubbyta’s life miserable?
Maybe I was right all along. Maybe this has always been a game to them.
And the worst part is that it hurts. That I care enough to feel betrayed. I hate that I let myself believe even for a second that Jace was different. That they all were. Because now, standing here barefoot in a hallway with my heart cracking open, all I can think is that I should have never let my guard down.
The hallway blurs around me as I rush forward blindly, and in my panic, my heel slips on the polished floor. One shoe flies off, and I stumble in my long dress. I catch myself with one hand against the wall and grit my teeth, refusing to cry in the middle of this stupid hallway.
“Ah—!” I crouch down to reach for the lost shoe, but before my fingers touch it, someone else’s hand gets there first.
I glance up and am surprised to see that it’s Evren. He stands in front of me silently, holding the shoe out like some sort of dark prince in a perfectly tailored suit. He bends on one knee and gently takes my foot in his hand.
Evren takes my foot, sets it on his lap, and slides the shoe back on. I blink, caught off guard, but I don’t stop him. I don’t have the energy to argue. He doesn’t let go even when the shoe is firmly in place. His hand stays on my ankle. I’m too tired to care.
“Why the hell were you running like that in heels?” he asks.
“It’s none of your business,” I snap, tugging my foot back.
He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he reaches up and brushes my cheek with his thumb. The gesture makes me freeze.
His gaze holds me firmly, focused entirely on me like he’s trying to read every thought I’m too exhausted to hide. “You look mad,” he notes.
“You think, genius?!” I bite back. I don’t intend to be rude but bitterness consumes my chest and spills out of my mouth before I can stop it.
A group of party guests turns the corner at the end of the hallway. There are three of them—two men in wrinkled tuxedos and a woman in a glittering red dress. They stumble as they walk, laughing at something one of them just said, their voices too loud for the quiet corridor.
“Great,” I mutter under my breath. “Exactly what I need. Drunk party guests seeing me like this.”
Evren tilts his head and looks at me for a moment, unreadable as ever. Then, without a word or warning, he scoops me up into his arms just as the guests start getting closer.
“What the hell—?!” I gasp, gripping his suit coat in surprise. “Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere quiet,” he answers calmly. “You’re in no state to face anyone.”
Evren doesn’t even glance down at me. “After tonight, you’ll be officially part of our family,” he says calmly. “It won’t look good if you explode in front of everyone. You’re in no state to talk to anyone right now.”
I scowl up at him. “You’re so uptight.”
He shrugs. “I just know how to channel anger properly. You should learn how to do it too.”
Yeah, right. Not everyone can wear ice for skin and call it self-control.
Before I can say anything else, Evren takes me to an unfamiliar hallway that leads to an isolated room I am not familiar with. Well, this is my first time exploring the naval station anyway.
He kicks open a door and steps inside. My lips part in awe as my eyes land on the boxing ring in the center of the room, surrounded by punching bags hanging from the ceiling.
“What… is this place?” I ask in confusion.
Luca finally sets me down on the floor. “This is where some of the navy officers train,” he says. “I come here too when I’m not at the estate.”
I glance around, still catching my breath. “Why did you bring me here?”
He walks toward the lockers without looking back. “Most of the pack is probably getting their asses drunk back at the party. No one’s going to disturb us here.” He opens a locker and pulls out a folded set of navy-issued training clothes. “You’ve got a lot of anger to burn,” he says, tossing the clothes to me. “Use it.”
I catch the bundle against my chest, frowning. “You brought me here to pick a fight?”
“No,” he replies, finally turning to face me. “I brought you here so you don’t blow up in the middle of a ballroom. If you want to be angry, do it here. Not out there.”