Chapter 135

Agnes

I left Elijah’s office with the small vial securely tucked in my pocket and made my way straight to the lab beneath the pack building. But when I finally reached the lab door, I pulled on the handle only to find it locked. A small sign hung at eye level: “Closed for maintenance. Will reopen tomorrow at 8 AM.”

I sighed, thumbing the vial in my pocket. Another delay. Another mystery prolonged. But there was nothing to be done about it now, I supposed, so I decided to hold onto it for now and come back in the morning.

After work, I headed home with James, since Elijah was still busy. I made Thea a sandwich and spent some time with her before I got to work selecting an outfit for the event tonight.

After much deliberation, I selected a midnight blue cocktail dress that I’d had tucked away for a while now. The silk material fell comfortably over my curves, cinching at my waist before flowing out in a subtle flare. The bodice featured delicate beadwork that caught the light, like tiny stars against a night sky, and the back dipped low, exposing the line of my spine.

I spent more time than usual on my hair and makeup, applying a smokey eye that made the color of my eyes pop against my fair skin. I swept my hair up into an elegant twist, allowing a few strands to frame my face.

By the time someone knocked on my door, I was nearly ready.

“Come in,” I called out, expecting Thea to enter. But it was Elijah whose eyes I met in the mirror when the door swung open.

My heart stopped in my chest at the sight of him.

Elijah always looked good, but tonight, in his perfectly tailored black tuxedo, he was devastating. The jacket emphasized the broad expanse of his shoulders, the white shirt beneath stark against his tanned skin. His dark hair was styled neatly, and his eyes widened slightly as they took me in.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. I stood still as his gaze traveled from my face down the length of my body, lingering on the places where the silk clung to my waist. My skin warmed beneath his stare, and when his eyes finally returned to mine, they had darkened to the color of storm clouds.

“Agnes.” He cleared his throat. “You look…”

“Too much?” I asked when he didn’t continue, suddenly uncertain.

He shook his head slowly. “No. It’s perfect.” The word was so soft I almost didn’t hear it. Then, his Adam’s apple bobbing, he added, “You look beautiful.”

I felt a flush spread across my cheeks. “Thank you,” I said. “You clean up pretty well yourself.”

Elijah smiled then, a real smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. He offered me his arm. “Shall we?”

The drive to the hotel where the event was being held was filled with comfortable conversation about work and Thea, neither of us mentioning what had transpired in his office earlier. But I was acutely aware of his presence beside me, the subtle scent of his cologne filling the enclosed space of the car, the way his hands gripped the steering wheel.

When we arrived, the ballroom was already filled with people. Round tables draped in white linen surrounded a dance floor, and crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the space. Waiters moved through the crowd with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.

Elijah’s hand found the small of my back as we navigated through the room, the heat of his palm burning through the thin material of my dress. I spotted familiar faces from the pack, exchanging polite greetings as we passed, but my eyes were scanning the crowd for one person in particular.

It didn’t take long for me to find her across the room, almost as if she were holding court amongst a group of admirers.

Olivia looked stunning, as always, in a crimson gown that hugged every perfect curve of her body. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back in loose curls, and diamonds glittered at her throat and ears.

Our eyes met briefly across the distance, and I saw the flicker of recognition, the slight narrowing of her gaze. But rather than approach, she simply turned away, directing her attention back to her companions.

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. She was keeping her distance—likely because she didn’t want to cause a scene in front of so many people. It would be bad for her image, and after the recent media storm surrounding me, she was flying too high to risk having the people turn on her.

Elijah and I made our way to our assigned table, greeting the other guests who were already seated there. Elijah introduced me to a few people, and I shook hands and smiled. Lately, the role of Luna seemed to be fitting me well, and I found myself slipping into it with more and more ease at events like this.

Throughout dinner, Elijah kept me close, his thigh pressed against mine beneath the table, his hand occasionally finding mine or resting on my knee. Each touch sent little sparks of electricity through me, and I found myself leaning into him, craving the contact.

Whether it was for show or genuine, I didn’t know, but I allowed myself to enjoy it, to pretend for one evening that this was real, that we were just a normal couple attending a work function together. And every so often, I would think back to the kiss we’d shared, the brief moment of tender and passionate connection.

If I pretended that he hadn’t just kissed me because of the residual effects of his mate bond with Olivia, the memory almost made me smile.

After dinner, as the event was coming to a lull for a while before dessert and speeches, I decided to grab a fresh drink from the bar. I excused myself and slipped away, leaving Elijah in the middle of a conversation with another union member.

I made my way through the crowd, my mind still spinning from the entire evening—no, the entire day. I really just needed a moment to compose myself, to remember that this wasn’t real, that he wasn’t really mine. Not yet, anyway. Maybe not ever.

However, I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice the person walking in my path until it was too late. We collided, their shoulder hitting mine hard enough to knock me off balance. My purse flew from my grasp, landing on the floor with a soft thud, its contents spilling out across the polished marble tiles.

When I looked up, the person was already disappearing into the crowd.

With a sigh, I knelt down to gather my belongings. Lipstick, my phone, my wallet, a few loose receipts, and—my heart stuttered—the small glass vial with its clear liquid inside.

My fingers had just moved toward it when another hand entered my field of vision, reaching for the vial. I looked up to see Olivia standing over me, her crimson dress pooling around her feet like blood.

Before I could react, she had snatched the vial away from me, holding it up to the light with perfectly manicured fingers. Her eyes widened in shock and horror, and she closed her fingers around it, whirling toward me with fury coloring her face.

“What are you doing with my postpartum depression medication, Agnes?!”