Chapter 91

Agnes

The weeks after that night in Elijah’s study passed in a blur, and yet somehow more normal than I expected.

Of course, I rebuilt the wall around my heart brick by brick, and made sure to build it thicker than it was before. I told myself I had been foolish—reckless, even—to think that I could seduce Elijah, a man still bound to his mate.

The memory of his mating mark glowing and the pained look in his eyes haunted me everywhere I went, but I shoved it down as best I could. It wasn’t like it was his fault.

Still, I couldn’t afford to be vulnerable again. Not with him. Not with anyone. I had come here, agreed to become Elijah’s wife, solely to find my missing daughter. That hadn’t changed.

But as time passed, the thought of my future in this house kept gnawing at me. If Elijah’s heart still belonged to Olivia, then my time here was borrowed.

I wasn’t naive enough to think that I could stay forever, and I never had. But perhaps I had gotten a bit too… comfortable here, taking it for granted. So, I began to squirrel away small portions of my paychecks, tucking them into an emergency fund in my bank account. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Just in case.

Not that I thought that Elijah would leave me high and dry on purpose, of course. But Olivia had a hold on him, and if she wanted to, she could manipulate him into doing so. I had to protect myself.

I also began to research apartments in the city, scrolling through listings on my phone whenever I wasn’t working. The thought of leaving Thea made my chest ache, but it was just a matter of fact that my place here was impermanent, and I had to be prepared.

Elijah and I returned to our usual routine over those weeks, but things were more tense than ever between us. We spoke less, our conversations reduced to polite exchanges about Thea or work.

It was as if we were both pretending that night had never happened, but I knew he was thinking about it just as much as I was.

Did he feel guilty about it, I wondered? Confused? Or perhaps just frustrated?

Either way, I didn’t ask, and he didn’t tell me.

The day of the model fittings arrived, and I threw myself into work with gusto. The fashion show was my chance to prove myself, not just as a designer but as a Luna who could contribute something meaningful to the pack.

The fitting room was buzzing with activity, models milling about in various states of undress and assistants darting back and forth with pins and fabric swatches. I stood in the center of it all, clipboard in hand, going through a list of alterations that needed to be made.

But my attention was abruptly pulled away when I heard a familiar voice—one that sent a chill down my spine.

“Agnes, darling. Long time no see.”

I turned, and there she was. Olivia.

She looked as stunning as ever, her blonde hair cascading over her shoulders in perfect waves. She wore a fitted dress that hugged her curves, and her smile was perfectly in place.

My stomach churned at the sight of her, but I forced my face into indifference.

“Olivia,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

She tilted her head, her smile widening. “Didn’t Elijah tell you? He specifically requested that I model in the show. In fact, he asked me to wear the star piece.” She paused, her gaze flicking over me with a hint of amusement. “I assumed you knew.”

I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening on the clipboard. Of course Elijah hadn’t told me. Why would he?

We hadn’t spoken about anything beyond the bare minimum in days, and the idea that he would hire Olivia to be in the show was only logical since she had a modeling history. It stung, but I couldn’t let her see just how much.

“Right. I must have forgotten,” I said coolly, although the lie tasted bitter on my tongue. “We’ll get you fitted right away.”

Olivia’s smile didn’t waver as she followed me to the fitting area. I could feel her eyes on me, watching, waiting for a crack in my composure. But I kept my expression neutral as I pinned the fabric to her body.

“You know, Agnes,” she said as I adjusted the hem of the star piece—the versatile yet sexy housecoat I had designed all those weeks ago—“it’s such a shame about your wolf. I can’t imagine how difficult it must be, trying to lead a pack without one. It’s like… well, it’s like trying to fly without wings, isn’t it?”

I glanced up at her, wondering just what she was getting at, bringing up my wolf like that out of nowhere. “I manage just fine,” I said.

“Do you?” she asked simply.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from snapping at her. I knew she was trying to get under my skin, and what really hurt was that it was working. She knew exactly what she was doing.

Finally, I stepped back and dusted my hands across my pants. “There you go. You can go talk to Maria about the final touches.”

Olivia nodded, and with that, she turned and sauntered away. I didn’t realize that I had been holding my breath throughout that entire exchange until I suddenly felt lightheaded.

Later, in the library, I found Gertrude sitting at her desk, surrounded by stacks of books. She looked up as I approached, pushing her glasses up on her nose.

“You look like you’ve had a day,” she said. “What happened?”

I sank into the chair across from her, my shoulders slumping more than I would have liked them to. “Olivia’s here,” I said in a low voice. “Elijah apparently requested her to model in the show. She’s wearing the star piece.”

Gertrude’s eyebrows shot up. “Did he tell you that?”

“No. We haven’t really been talking much lately, if I’m being honest.”

Gertrude let out a sigh, stamped a book, and slid it to the side. “Well, you can’t let her get to you. She’s just another model.”

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. If only that were the truth. But it wasn’t.

Taking a deep breath, I told Gertrude about Olivia’s strange comments about my wolf. I told her about the supposed spell, too, that was keeping my wolf away—and making my life just that much more complicated.

She listened intently, and when I was finished, she was quiet for a moment as if considering. Then she stood, gesturing for me to follow. “Come on. I think I might have something that can help.”

I followed her through the tall shelves of the library, past rows of crisp new books and slightly older and more worn ones, until we reached a heavy wooden door tucked away in a shadowy corner.

Gertrude pulled a key from her pocket and unlocked it, revealing a dimly lit room filled with even older books, their spines cracked and faded with age. The air smelled like old paper and moth balls.

“This is the restricted section,” she said, gesturing to the shelves. “Most of these books are centuries old, filled with knowledge that’s been forgotten—or maybe even deliberately hidden. If there’s any information about the spell blocking your wolf, it’ll be here.”

We spent the next hour combing through the shelves, pulling down books with titles like Ancient Curses and Their Remedies and The Lost Art of Mating Rituals. More than once Gertrude fell into sneezing fits from the dust, her glasses falling off her face, and the faint scent of mildew was giving me a headache, but we didn’t stop searching.

Finally, Gertrude let out a triumphant sound and pulled a large, leather-bound book from the shelf. Its cover was embossed with what looked like runes or maybe some ancient alphabet, and the pages were yellowed with age.

She flipped through it carefully, her eyes scanning the text.

“Hm. This might have something useful in it,” she said, handing the book to me. “It’s about ancient spells and curses. I don’t know if it’ll have any information on the spell you’re specifically looking for, but it’s a start, right?”

I took the book and thumbed through it. The text wasn’t easy to read on the weathered pages, but it would do.

“Thanks, Gertrude,” I said, offering her a small smile. “Can I check this out and return it later?”

The librarian hesitated, her lips twitching. Finally, she nodded. “Fine, but don’t tell anyone. We’re not supposed to check the books from the restricted section out to anyone—not even the Alpha and Luna.”

I nodded, tucking the book into my bag.

“Thank you. I’ll make it up to you.”

Gertrude simply smirked. “You’ve already made it up to me by spending your lunch break poring over dusty old books,” she said. “You know that’s my favorite thing in the whole world.”

For the first time in weeks, I couldn’t help but laugh. Adjusting my bag on my shoulder, the weight of the book strangely grounding me, I followed Gertrude from the restricted section and returned to work.