I kept my expression serene, my shoulders squared, my chin high. The room erupted into applause, but the sound barely registered. Inside, I was frozen, my mind racing to process what had just happened.
Logan had just announced our engagement.
He had done it without asking me. Without a proposal. Without so much as a damn
conversation.
I had known that Logan was playing the role of a dutiful Alpha, ensuring the world saw him as strong, connected, untouchable. I had even suspected he would use our alliance to further that image. But I had not expected this.
He probably thought that he was doing me a favor. Protecting Aiden, protecting my secret.
But I didn’t feel any kind of relief.
Instead, I felt trapped.
The room was watching, and I was already too well–trained in the art of composure to let
them see me falter. If I so much as hesitated, if I didn’t meet the moment with the same
calculated poise that had been ingrained in me since birth, they would sense it. They would
question me, question my position, question my place among them.
So, I did what I had been trained to do.
I smiled.
I turned to Logan, allowing him to take my hand, knowing that every single person in the
room was watching. He squeezed my fingers, his grip just a little too tight.
I leaned in, just slightly, and whispered through gritted teeth, “That was quite the
announcement.”
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Logan grinned for the crowd, looking for all the world like a man in love. “You’ll thank me
later.”
For now, I had to endure the endless stream of congratulations, the smiling faces, the murmured words of approval as I played my part to perfection.
And then, from the crowd, a familiar presence emerged.
Derek’s mother.
My stomach tightened. My breath caught for just a moment before I forced myself to exhale. She approached me with the grace and presence of a woman who had once been a Luna–who had raised an Alpha. I braced myself, unsure of what to expect.
I could feel Logan stiffen beside me, the hard eyes of both my mother and father watching for any sign of distress.
She stopped in front of me, her dark eyes searching my face. Then, softly, she said, “My son didn’t know what he had. But I suspected… I wish you every happiness.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
She had always been kind to me, but that was when I was a member of her pack, when I was
the intended bride of her only son.
Now, I stood there, prepared for anger, for disapproval, for some thinly veiled insult meant
to remind me of my place. Instead, I heard something almost like regret in her voice.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat and nodded. “Thank you.”
She gave me a small, knowing smile before turning and disappearing back into the crowd.
The past felt closer than ever in that moment. The past I had worked so hard to lock away, to keep buried beneath layers of control and necessity. But the weight of Derek’s mother’s words cracked something inside me, and before I could stop it, a memory pulled me under.
It had been late at night, the fire in Derek’s office burning low. I remembered the scent of
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the leather couch, the rich wood of his desk, the faint lingering aroma of the whiskey he
had been drinking.
“I don’t care about politics, Derek,” I had told him, my voice firmer than I had expected. “I
care about you. About what we could be together.”
Derek had stared at me from across the room, his jaw clenched, his hands braced against the edge of the desk as if he were grounding himself. “This isn’t just about us, Elena. You
know that.”
“Then let them talk. Let them speculate. None of it changes the fact that I am yours. That
you are mine.”
The tension in him broke all at once. In two steps, he closed the distance between us, his hands cupping my face, his breath warm against my lips. “Say it again.”
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