Chapter 58
CASSANDRA
I sat curled up in one of the velvet chairs in my father’s study, legs tucked beneath me, the rim of my wine glass resting lightly against my bottom lip. The press conference played across the flat screen mounted above the fireplace, illuminating the room in hues of blue and gold.
I twirled the glass slowly between my fingers, letting the wine catch the firelight as it sloshed gently in the bowl. The deep red clung to the sides like blood. Appropriate, considering the wounds this entire debacle was reopening.
I wasn’t sure if I wanted to throw the glass across the room or finish it.
My gaze returned to the screen.
There she was.
Elena–Princess of Moonstone, once presumed dead, now revived and radiant and
standing beside Derek like the Goddess herself had plucked her from the afterlife for an encore performance. Her chin was high, her dress understated but elegant, her expression carefully measured.
I took another sip of wine.
Derek looked good. Commanding. Polished. A true Alpha in a tailored black suit.
But it was the way he stood next to her, the quiet way he reached for her hand mid- interrogation, that made my stomach twist. She hadn’t pulled away.
She let him.
I leaned forward and turned up the volume. It was all playing out beautifully. Better than I’d planned, honestly.
The media storm I had unleashed was doing exactly what it was supposed to–forcing
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Elena into the public eye, forcing her to explain herself. And best of all, forcing her and Derek to align publicly, for the sake of the Alliance.
She would hate it.
I knew she loathed the spotlight.
And nothing brought people together quite like obligation, I thought sarcastically.
Except Derek hadn’t looked particularly obligated when he lifted their joined hands at the end like they were some kind of united front. And Elena, she’d looked… steady. Like she
remembered what it was to be a Luna.
That was dangerous.
J
I took another sip, then a bigger one. The wine burned on its way down. My father always
said Elena was a problem best solved by someone who knew how to think long term.
I was thinking long term.
She thought this was over? That all it would take was a press conference and a few well- timed tears to reclaim her story?
No. No, this wasn’t just about her tragic reappearance, or how tragically perfect she looked
next to Derek under the lights.
This was about control. About power. And she’d already had her turn.
I’d waited. Played the dutiful friend. The supportive almost–fiancée. The clever, resourceful backup. But second place stopped being enough the second she came back from the dead
and started stealing the spotlight all over again.
And Derek… he didn’t even see it. Not really. He was still caught between the woman who
had vanished and the one who had returned. Still unsure if he was in love with a ghost or a
myth.
But eventually, he’d have to choose. And when that day came, I wouldn’t be left standing in
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the wings.
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I traced my finger along the rim of the glass, hearing the faint, resonant hum it made. Outside, the wind had picked up, howling low against the window like the ghosts of a
thousand disappointed she–wolves.
I’d known girls like Elena my whole life–smiling on the outside, calculating on the inside. Using their charm like a dagger. And still, somehow, managing to make everyone believe
they were the victim.
A log shifted in the fireplace with a sharp snap, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney. I didn’t flinch. I was too far gone into my own spiral of contempt, calculation, and red wine.
That was the problem with wolves like Elena. They always underestimated what the quiet
ones could do.
I didn’t hear the door slam open–I felt it.
Derek’s presence filled the study like a lightning strike, sharp and sudden. I jumped, nearly
spilling what was left in my glass.
“Derek!” I managed, my voice half–scolding, half–shocked.
“Don’t,” he snapped. “Don’t even start.”
He didn’t bother with pleasantries. He didn’t bother to sit. He marched straight toward me like a storm on two legs and stopped a few feet away, his jaw tight, his eyes darker than I’d
ever seen them.
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