Chapter 131

Agnes

Elijah whisked us down the street before the mob could follow us. I felt a wave of relief wash over me now that he was here, but I could still feel the angry eyes on me even after we turned the corner.

Up ahead, Elijah’s car was parked on the side of the street. “I was just leaving work,” he said, glancing at me as he quickly unlocked it and placed Thea in the back seat. “You’re lucky I saw you.”

My throat bobbed. “I’ve never had that happen before.”

“I know,” he said, buckling Thea in and then opening the passenger door for me. “But it happens sometimes when you’re a public figure.”

I nodded, climbing into the car. My heart was pounding, and the sound of Thea sniffling softly in the back seat—probably scared of the angry mob as well as heartbroken over having to miss her violin lesson—just made the air inside the car feel even more suffocating.

For a moment, Elijah stood there with his hand on the car door, his eyes scanning my face as if searching for any sign of injury. I opened my mouth to reassure him that we were really unharmed, just a little freaked out, but before I could speak, he leaned in, his cologne enveloping me.

My breath caught as his hands brushed against my waist, and for a moment, I almost thought he was going to kiss me. But then he reached across me and buckled my seatbelt with a click.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” he murmured, his face close enough that I could smell the spearmint on his breath.

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak at first. Finally, I managed, “We’re okay. It’s just… I think the rumors about me and Olivia are getting to be too much. Everyone seems to think that I’m trying to…” I lowered my voice, not wanting Thea to overhear. “...Steal her from Olivia.”

Elijah’s face hardened. Wordlessly, he shut the car door, the sound making me flinch even though I knew he didn’t mean it. I watched as he circled to the other side, the line of his shoulders rigid, and climbed into the driver’s seat.

“I’ll handle it,” he said firmly as he started the car and pulled away from the curb. “But in the meantime, I need you to stay home. Just until this blows over.”

My eyes widened. “But I have work to do. My new fashion line—”

“You’ll just have to work from home,” he said. His voice left no room for argument, and when he cast me a sidelong glance with a dark and stormy gaze, I knew there was nothing to say or do that would change his mind.

I sighed, sinking a little further down into my seat. “Alright. I guess it’s for the best.”

Elijah nodded, and Thea chimed in from the back seat, “Do I have to stay home, too?”

He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Beta James will take you to school, but you’ll have to miss your violin lessons for a little bit.”

Thea’s eyes turned as wide as saucers, tears brimming in them. “But I love my violin lessons.”

My heart broke. I turned, reaching for her hand. “We know, sweetie. But it’s only temporary, okay? And you can still practice your violin at home.”

Thea didn’t look terribly convinced, but she didn’t argue further. Still, seeing the way she just turned and stared out the window, quietly sniffling, made my stomach wrench painfully.

The days that followed were long and monotonous. I stayed home, just as Elijah had asked, but the walls of the large house seemed to close in around me more than they ever had.

I tried to keep busy, but nothing could fill the hours in the same way going out could. I missed the buzz of the design department.

And it affected my work, too. I kept having to restart my designs from scratch. Nothing seemed to come out right, and it even got to the point where I almost considered giving my sketches to Maria or another one of the designers, since I couldn’t seem to draw anything halfway decent.

Elijah, for his part, did his best to keep me comfortable. One evening, as we sat at the kitchen table finishing up the remnants of the takeout food he’d surprised us with, he mentioned an upcoming event—a formal gala hosted by one of the neighboring packs.

It was still a few months away, but he urged me to start sketching a gown in advance.

“You should make one for Thea, too,” he suggested. “Something that matches yours, like the mother-daughter line you’ve been working on.”

I hesitated, sighing as I poked at my fried rice with my chopsticks. “I don’t know… I haven’t been in the right headspace to design lately. Nothing is coming out well.”

He shrugged. “I think you can do it if you just put your mind to it.”

I looked up at him, at the way his eyes held mine, and felt something soften inside of me. “Alright,” I said, my shoulders slumping slightly. “I’ll give it a shot.”

Elijah’s mouth tugged upwards. “Good. This’ll all blow over soon, Agnes.”

Frankly, I wasn’t so sure about that statement. But regardless, I tried to let his words bolster me. I spent hours at the kitchen table that night, my sketchpad open in front of me, pencils scattered around.

However, by the time dawn came around, I still hadn’t come up with anything good. I sighed, snapping my notebook shut and heading upstairs. Not only was my sleep schedule completely fucked, but I still couldn’t draw anything, and I just felt more depressed than before.

But just as I was trudging down the hall to my room, my eye caught the narrow stairwell leading up to the attic.

I hesitated at the base of it. I hadn’t been up there in ages—not since the Mate Trial. But I recalled the beautiful gown my mother had made.

Taking a deep breath, I made my way up the steps and carefully opened the door at the top. The large glass case was still in the same spot, covered by a white sheet. I pulled it off, sending dust motes flying into the dim light of dawn.

The down stared back at me in all its glory, just like I remembered it.

And all at once, inspiration came to me.

I didn’t hesitate. I immediately plopped down on the floor in front of the case, opening my sketchbook and getting to work. My pencil flew across the paper, designs pouring out of me one after the other. Each one felt closer and closer to something that I’d actually want to wear.

I decided to incorporate some of the elements from the original dress into my design—the sweetheart neckline, the intricate beading, the way the skirt flared out like a waterfall.

But I added my own touches, too—softer fabrics, a silky skirt with slightly less volume to it, and a deep, rich black color.

The work made me happy in a way I hadn’t felt in a while. It gave me a sense of purpose, and made me feel connected to my mother, as if she were guiding my hand over the paper. And as the sun rose outside, I finally finished the best sketch yet.

Grinning, I held the sketch up to the morning sunlight, inspecting the delicate design.

It was perfect. All I needed now was to pick out some swatches to get started.

That afternoon, I decided to brave the fabric store. I knew Elijah wouldn’t approve, but I needed swatches for the gown, and James wasn’t around to take me. I dressed carefully, pulling on a hoodie and sunglasses so no one would recognize me.

The fabric store was quiet when I entered. I moved through the aisles, my fingers trailing over bolts of fabric. I picked out a few swatches of dark silk, some midnight blue and others jet black, and I filled my basket with all of the ones that intrigued me.

I was just about to round the corner to the sewing notions aisle, wanting to check out what bows and beads they had available, when I heard the voices.

“Did you see the latest article about Luna Agnes?” a woman’s voice whispered. “It’s so sad, really. She’s clearly not right in the head after losing her child. And now she’s taking advantage of Elijah’s good heart.”

My breath caught, my hand tightening around the handle of my basket.

“I know,” another woman replied with a scoff. “It’s only a matter of time before he comes to his senses and gets back with Olivia. She’s his true mate, after all. And the mother of his child.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. The women continued to chat, saying that I was trying to use Elijah, that I had manipulated him with my ‘feminine wiles’ into reopening the cold case on my missing daughter.

Then, their footsteps approached. I quickly hid behind the shelf, nearly engulfed by the large rolls of fabric. The women strutted past, shifting their conversation to the day’s weather, as if they hadn’t just been tearing me apart.

I stayed there, pressed to the bolts of fabric with my hand clamped over my mouth, as the voices faded away.

Only once they were gone did the first tear slip down my cheek, followed by another.

Not right in the head after losing her child.

Taking advantage.

Comes to his senses.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I left the basket on the floor, rushing home before anyone could have the satisfaction of seeing me cry.