I couldn’t help but smile. “You too. And hey–take care of her alright?”
“I always do.”
He hung up without waiting for a goodbye, and I found myself staring at the phone in my hand long after the line had gone dead.
It was too easy to picture him. Too easy to hear our bond in his laugh.
I pushed to my feet, swallowing hard, and finally put the phone back on the receiver. But I wasn’t fast enough.
Cassandra had already walked in.
CASSANDRA
Pressure. That was the only word for it lately. No–there were others. Suffocation. Ultimatums. Expectations dressed up as advice from a father who thought he knew best.
“Secure him,” my father had said the last time we spoke. “This can’t wait anymore, Cass. Eastern Ridge is barely hanging on. Our alliance with Silverclaw is the only thing keeping neighboring packs from tearing us apart. And if you lose Derek, we lose everything.”
I’d smiled then, the kind of smile that kept people comfortable. But inside, I had seethed. Because no one ever talked about what I wanted. What I needed. It was always Derek this, Derek that. Tie him down. Win him over. Breed strong heirs for the pack.
Goddess.
And now, to add insult to injury, that bitch was back.
Elena.
Oh, not publicly, not officially. Not in the way a returned–from–the–dead Luna might announce herself. No, she slithered back into Derek’s life as some war–scarred ghost from
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Chapter 50
his past, all wide eyes and wounded pride. And he fell for it. Again.
+25 Bonus
I didn’t need to hear her name in conversation to know she was behind his moods. Behind
his absence from my bed. Behind the hesitation I saw in his eyes when he looked at me
now, like he was seeing a memory instead of the woman in front of him.
Elena had a pattern. She clung to powerful men like ivy on a crumbling wall—first Derek, now Logan. And yet, somehow, she’d managed to make both of them weak for her.
Derek had nearly crumbled when she “died.” And Logan? That engagement was dragging longer than any royal courtship I’d ever seen. No wedding date, no ring photos, no Luna
announcements. Nothing.
Was that her game? Draw them in, let them plan a life together, then vanish right before
the vows?
She wouldn’t get away with it twice.
I pulled my coat tighter around my shoulders as I walked into the Silverclaw packhouse, boots clicking across the stone–tiled foyer. The tension here had changed recently. The guards stood taller. The house ran quieter. Like everyone was holding their breath and
waiting for something to snap.
Caroline greeted me with her usual clipped smile. “Cassandra.”
“Caroline,” I said warmly, though it took effort. “You look well.”
She didn’t. She looked tired and suspicious, but I didn’t say that. Joe passed by, giving me a
nod but not stopping to talk. Interesting. Derek’s inner circle had become more guarded. Was it because of the rogue attacks? Or had my presence lost its charm?
I made my way down the hallway toward Derek’s office, heels soft against the worn rug. Just as I neared the door, I heard his voice through the partially open frame.
He was talking about being a ring bearer for some goddess–forsaken reason. Laughing. His
voice as tender as I’d ever heard it.
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Chapter 50
My stomach clenched.
+25 Bonus
Whoever it was on the phone spoke to him for a little longer and I swallowed, trying to get a
clue as to who it was he was talking to.
Another small laugh.
And then, softer, almost fond: “Take care of her, alright?”
He stood staring at the receiver for a long minute, a faraway look on his face and then finally hung up. I barely had time to school my face into something unreadable before he turned and noticed me standing there.
He raised an eyebrow. “Cassandra.”
I smiled. “Who were you talking to?”
He smiled to himself and shrugged, brushing past me. “Nobody.”
Nobody, my ass.
3
As soon as he was gone, I stepped into his office, stared down at the phone, and pressed
redial.
The line rang once. Then a voice answered.
“Moonstone Packhouse.”
I slammed the receiver down, pulse pounding. Of course. Of course it was them. She was worming her way back in somehow–through Derek’s guilt, probably, through whatever ancient tragedy still tied them together.
Not again.
I pulled out my cell and scrolled down until I found the name I was looking for. Carlton. An old school friend of mine. Journalism degree. Hungry for gossip. Always answered my calls.
I hit dial.
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Chapter 50
“Carlton? It’s Cassandra Laurent,” I said, keeping my tone calm. Controlled.
“I’ve got a story I think you’re going to want to hear.”
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