Chapter 17 Suddenly Coldfeet
The words sound rehearsed, practiced until they’re almost hollow. No one seems to notice, but I do.
“Please,” he adds, gesturing faintly, “continue speaking among yourselves. I’ll come by to speak with each of you individually.”
One of the women near the table stiffens, eyes wide, clearly expecting him to approach her first.
He doesn’t.
Instead, he turns and walks straight toward me.
I lean in slightly, keeping my voice low. “You’re not supposed to come to me first,” I murmur. “They’ll notice.”
He stops close, too close, and turns his back to the room, blocking us from view as best he can. He bends his head toward mine, his voice barely more than a breath.
“I can’t do this,” he says.
I look up at him, taking in the tight line of his jaw, the strain etched across his face.
“Breathe, Cassain,” I say calmly. “Just breathe.”
“This is wrong,” he mutters. “All of it. It’s a performance. A lie.”
I place my hands on his shoulders, grounding him, ignoring the sharp looks thrown our way. To them, I’m his mistress, the woman already holding his attention, and they clearly resent it.
“It may not be perfect,” I say softly, “but it doesn’t have to be a sham. You don’t have to pretend to be someone else. Just be you.”
His eyes search my face, conflicted, restless.
For a moment, the Alpha mask slips.
“I’ve seen you stand your ground against some of the strongest Alphas in existence,” I say quietly, making sure only he hears me. “Finding a wife for your Pack is the smallest sacrifice you’ve ever been asked to make.”
Cassain stiffens, then straightens his spine as if my words physically brace him. He draws a slow breath, shoulders squaring, confidence settling over him like a carefully worn cloak.
“You’re right,” he says, though the certainty in his voice feels borrowed.
“Obviously,” I reply, allowing myself a small smile. I tip my head toward the cluster of women waiting nearby. “Now stop feeding the gossip and go introduce yourself to these beautiful ladies.”
He frowns slightly, confusion flickering across his face. “What gossip?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly, already turning him by pressing my palm gently against the center of his back. “Off you go.”
He glances back at me one last time, searching my face for something, permission, reassurance, maybe escape. Whatever he’s looking for, I don’t give it. With a quiet sigh, he moves away and approaches Elora first, offering a polite greeting.
I retreat a few steps, letting my back rest against the far wall. From here, I can watch everything unfold without being in the middle of it.
The scene unfolding in front of me is as awkward as I expected, stiff smiles, careful words, Cassain holding himself like he’s on trial rather than at a social gathering.
Lexa’s brother peels away from the group and strolls over, unhurried and confident. He leans back against the wall next to me, casual, comfortable. Too comfortable.
He’s undeniably attractive. Tall, relaxed, with dark blue eyes that seem to notice everything. His smile is warm, open, the kind that invites conversation without forcing it.
I return the smile, a little cautiously, as he slips his hands into his pockets.
“He looks nervous,” he remarks, nodding toward Cassain. He lifts a hand and smooths it through his thick brown hair, the ends brushing his shoulders. “Didn’t expect that.”
“Oh… he doesn’t really get nervous,” I reply, twisting the ring on my finger without thinking. “Not exactly. He’s just—”
“He doesn’t want this,” he finishes for me, his tone observational rather than judgmental.
I glance at him, surprised. It doesn’t take a genius to see Cassain would rather face an enemy than this situation, but Lexa’s brother clearly notices more than most.
“He doesn’t know what he wants,” I say carefully.
“My sister won’t love him,” he says casually, as if he’s commenting on the weather.
I huff out a breath. “It’s not entirely about love.” As much as I want Cassain to find it, the practical part of me knows better. Duty comes first. It always does.
He turns slightly, angling his body toward mine, shoulder resting against the wall. “So what do you get out of this?” he asks. “If you’re his mistress, you have to be involved with him… pretty intimately.”
The air feels colder as his words settle. I breathe out slowly, ignoring the tight feeling that creeps into my chest.
“I want this Pack to thrive,” I say evenly. “I need it to.”
Something in my voice must convince him, because he nods once and extends his hand. “Jax,” he says. “By the way.”
I take his hand, aware of the warmth of his grip, the confidence there. It’s probably dangerous that I find him attractive, but I can’t help it.
He looks like a man who’s never had to try very hard to get what, or who, he wants.
“We probably shouldn’t talk,” I murmur, my gaze drifting back to Cassain’s broad back across the room.
Jax lifts a brow. “Why not?”
I hesitate. I’m not even sure why I assume Cassain would care who I talk to. Still, his reactions in the past, to anyone getting too close to me, have been… intense.
“Never mind,” I say finally, pushing off the wall. I gesture toward the door. “Want to step outside? Get some air?”
His grin widens, unmistakably pleased. “Why not.”