Chapter 37 A Setup?
The air was cold, damp with forest breath. Even the wind smelled like wet bark and old leaves. The world was quiet in that early-hour way, as if the pack territory itself hadn’t decided whether it wanted to wake.
They walked down the path away from the house.
Kai kept close, careful not to touch Selene but close enough to suggest companionship to anyone who might see them. Selene noticed the rhythm of Kai’s footsteps—measured, controlled, never too hurried.
Like she was guiding an animal that could bolt if startled.
The trees lined the road like silent witnesses. Beyond them, the forest stretched deeper, darker—Lunaria somewhere within it, ancient and unreadable.
Selene’s mind flickered there for a moment.
A strange thought slid in with the cold air:
If something went wrong today, Lunaria would know before anyone else did.
That wasn’t comfort.
It was a fact.
They reached the stop where the road widened—where students sometimes waited for transportation into town. A simple post, a worn bench, a strip of pavement that looked too clean for how far it sat from everything.
Selene stopped.
She looked at the empty road.
Then at Kai.
“So,” Selene said softly, “we’re not walking.”
Kai gave a light laugh, too bright for the hour. “Of course not. It’s far.”
“Far,” Selene repeated, tasting the word like it had edges.
Kai busied herself adjusting her bag strap. “It’s an outing. I told you. A change of air.”
Selene’s gaze swept the stretch of road again. Nothing moved. No engine hum. No distant headlights.
“If it’s far enough to need a ride,” Selene said, “then it’s far enough to be… intentional.”
Kai’s mouth tightened. “Everything you say sounds like an accusation.”
“It’s only an accusation,” Selene replied, “if you feel guilty about it.”
Kai’s eyes flashed.
Then she exhaled slowly, smoothing her expression like a hand over wrinkled fabric. “You’ve been acting like I’m your enemy.”
Selene leaned back slightly against the post, posture relaxed, gaze sharp. “No. Enemies are honest about wanting you ruined.”
Kai blinked, caught by the sentence.
Selene continued, voice gentle, almost bored. “I’m still trying to figure out what you are.”
For a beat, Kai said nothing.
The morning air between them filled with the kind of silence that didn’t invite conversation—only confession.
Then Kai’s tone shifted, softer. “I just… wanted to do something with you. It’s semestral break. We’ve been so distant.”
“We live in the same house,” Selene said.
Kai’s lips twitched. “And yet you’re never really here.”
Selene glanced down the road again.
“You’re right,” she said quietly. “I’m usually somewhere that doesn’t lie to me.”
Kai’s hand curled around her bag strap. “You mean the tree.”
Selene’s expression didn’t change, but something in her eyes sharpened.
“Kai,” she said, and her sister’s name sounded like a warning without volume, “if you’re about to say something childish about Lunaria, save it. It’s too early to be embarrassing.”
Kai’s cheeks warmed faintly, a mix of irritation and something else—fear that she was losing control of the narrative.
Before she could respond, the distant sound of an engine rolled down the road.
Selene’s attention lifted instantly.
A car emerged from the curve, its headlights lowered to a muted glow that skimmed the pavement rather than cutting through it. The body caught the thin light like polished obsidian and wine, dark and glossy, every line deliberate, restrained, expensive. It didn’t rush. It eased forward with the quiet confidence of something that never had to hurry.
As it slowed near the stop, the engine made almost no sound—just a low, controlled presence, more felt than heard. Chrome traced the grille and edges with subtle precision, not for show but for those who knew what to look for. The windows were tinted just enough to keep their secrets.
Kai’s posture shifted the moment it came into view.
Selene watched as the car pulled over and stopped, perfectly aligned, as if it had rehearsed this moment.
Then she saw the driver.
Christopher.
Her mate.
Alpha.
The person who had looked at her in front of everyone and asked if the rumor was true, as if her dignity was a public vote.
For a second, the world narrowed into a single, sharp line.
The car’s window lowered slightly, and Christopher’s face appeared in the gap, framed by the interior light. His expression was composed, practiced—like he’d rehearsed it in a mirror until it looked believable.
Selene didn’t move.
Kai moved first.
“Christopher,” Kai said, tone bright, like this was normal. Like this was always the plan, “Good Morning!”
Selene’s eyes flicked to her.
So that was it.
The map. The supplies. The note and now the Alpha himself, arriving like a solution.
Kai turned toward Selene quickly. “Come on,” she said, reaching for the back door handle, then correcting herself mid-motion. “Ride in front. You two should—”
Selene took a slow breath.
She stepped toward the passenger side automatically, not because she wanted to, but because it was what the scene demanded. What an outsider would expect. The mate in the front seat. The sister in the back.
Her fingers touched the handle and then Kai’s movement became sudden.
Too sudden for someone who “just wanted an outing.”
Kai slid toward the passenger side as well, as if she were going to sit there first. Then she caught herself—caught Selene’s stillness, Selene’s watchful eyes—and pivoted at the last moment.
“Oh,” Kai said quickly, a small laugh, forced. “Actually, I’ll just sit in the back. You two can talk.”
Selene’s mouth almost curved.
Almost.
Kai opened the back door and climbed in fast, like she was escaping a spotlight.
Selene didn’t look at her.
She didn’t need to.
She could feel it—Kai’s nervousness, her eagerness to play harmless now that the real trap was already set.
Christopher stepped out of the car.
The morning light painted him pale, giving him the soft edges he didn’t deserve. He straightened his jacket as if he were arriving at an event, not collecting the mate he’d publicly wounded.
He walked around to Selene’s side.
And then he did something that would have looked romantic in someone else’s story.
He opened the passenger door for her.
“Come on, my love,” Christopher said, voice warm, intimate, as if nothing happened in his office. As if he hadn’t let someone else’s whispers decide how he treated her. “I have missed you.”
His hand lifted, gentle, aiming for her cheek.
His face leaned in.
The kiss was offered like a performance.
Selene shifted just slightly—barely more than a breath.
His lips met nothing.
She slipped past him and sat inside the car with controlled ease, the motion smooth, unbothered, as if she hadn’t just dodged the Alpha’s mouth in the open air.
Christopher paused, the smallest crack in his expression.
Selene looked forward, then turned her head just enough to let him see her profile.
A smirk touched her lips—razor-thin.
Not anger.
Not heartbreak.
Just awareness.
As if to say:
Try harder.
And behind her, unseen but felt, the Hourglass Mark watched the moment settle into place like the first grain of sand falling.
Because today wasn’t an outing.
It was a setup.