Chapter 11

(Evelyn’s POV)

“What’s it to you?” I responded coldly, my voice steady even though my pulse was racing.

Standing in front of me, Logan looked furious.

His dark eyes burned with an intensity that made the air between us feel heavy. His broad shoulders were tense beneath his tailored black suit, and his fists were clenched tightly at his sides. I could tell he was barely holding himself together.

I wasn’t sure who let him in, but they’d pay for it when this was all said and done.

The crowded ballroom seemed to fade away, the sounds of the music and murmured conversations dulling in the background. All I could hear was the sharpness in Logan’s voice and the pounding of my own heart.

Before I could say anything more, Artemis stepped forward, deliberately placing himself between Logan and me.

His expression was calm, but I knew better. That calmness was a cover for the storm brewing beneath the surface.

“I’m her dance partner, and the master of this castle,” my brother said smoothly, his tone laced with provocation. “Who are you?”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his gaze flicking between the two of us. “I’m her husband,” he responded flatly, his voice cold, almost detached.

My stomach churned at the word “husband.” He had no right to call himself that anymore.

Logan, it seemed, was just getting started.

His gaze zeroed in on my brother, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. “So, this is him,” he said, his tone laced with venom. “You’re the one who picked her up from the mall, aren’t you?”

I froze for a moment, realizing what he meant. He thought my brother was the man who had driven me away from the mall that day.

Logan’s lips curled into a sneer, his voice dripping with disdain. “How much did he give you to be with him, Evelyn?”

The words hit me like a slap to the face. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

And then, without thinking, I slapped him.

The sound echoed through the ballroom, drawing the attention of the nearby guests.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, and I could feel their stares, but I didn’t care.

My hand stung from the force of the slap, but it was nothing compared to the anger roaring inside me.

“How dare you!” I hissed, my voice low but trembling with fury. “How dare you speak to me like that!”

Logan’s head turned back slowly, his cheek red from where my hand had struck him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t show any sign of pain.

His eyes locked onto mine, and I saw something dark and possessive flicker in his eyes. It was something I’d never seen before.

“Sign the divorce papers…quickly,” I snapped, my voice sharp and firm. “Our mate bond has already been severed. We’re done.”

But Logan didn’t back down. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his voice came out in a low growl. “No,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We’re not divorced yet. You’re still mine.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but my brother stepped in before I could.

“She’s not yours,” he said, his voice hard and unyielding. “What do you think you are?”

The tension between the two of them was electric, but I couldn’t let this escalate further. I placed a hand on Artemis’s arm, drawing his attention.

“Let’s go,” I said quietly, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.

He nodded, his gaze lingering on Logan for a moment longer before he turned and led me away.

As we walked across the ballroom, I could feel Logan’s eyes burning into my back. His anger was almost palpable, and I knew this wasn’t the end of it.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur.

As the ball neared its end, many of the Alphas in attendance began the traditional gesture of offering flowers to the women they admired. It was a tradition I had almost forgotten about—a way of expressing interest or respect during the mate ball.

I hadn’t expected to receive any flowers, but to my surprise, Alpha after Alpha approached me, each one handing me a carefully chosen bloom.

“Miss Evelyn,” one Alpha said, offering me a delicate white rose. “You’ve made quite an impression tonight.”

Another Alpha, this one with a charming smile, handed me a vibrant red tulip. “You were absolutely radiant on the dance floor,” he said warmly.

I graciously accepted each flower, offering polite smiles and thanks, though my arms were quickly becoming full. The colors and scents of the flowers blended together, creating a beautiful but overwhelming display.

My brother watched with amusement, occasionally stepping in to gently redirect an overly persistent suitor.

By the time the King, our father, stepped forward to make an announcement, my arms were overflowing with flowers. I could feel the weight of the crowd’s eyes on me again, their whispers and speculation swirling.

“The princess is unwell and will not be attending the rest of the event,” the King announced, his voice commanding but calm. “Everything will proceed as usual.”

The murmurs grew louder, but I barely paid attention. My focus was on keeping my composure, even as the weight of the flowers and the evening’s events began to wear on me.

Not far away, I noticed Emma standing with a small group of women. She was watching me closely, her expression a mix of disbelief and irritation.

“I told you it couldn’t be her,” she said sharply to the women around her, her voice loud enough for me to hear.

I ignored her, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Nearby, Logan stood silently, his gaze fixed on me. I could feel his anger simmering beneath the surface, but he made no move to approach.

Now that The King had made his announcement, I was free to leave. Signalling to Artemis, we made our way toward the entrance.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Logan step forward as if to stop me, but I didn’t give him the chance. I walked past him without a word, my brother by my side.

We stepped into the car, the door closing with a soft click. As the driver pulled away from the palace, I let out a slow breath, the tension in my shoulders finally easing.

Later that evening, as I sat in the drawing room with Artemis, my phone buzzed.

I picked it up, frowning as I saw Logan’s name on the screen. For a moment, I debated ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of me.

“Who on earth is calling at this hour?” artemis laughed chugging back the last of his cryal glass of bourbon.

“Of all the devils in the world Arty, I really chose one,” I sighed, throwing my back agiant the couch.

“What do you mena? Surely that dreadful peasant alpha isn’t calling you now,” he snorts, reaching for the breathing decanter to his left. “How insufferable to crash an event you weren’t invited to. Say, did we get that guard fired? “

I chuckled. " There’s no guard in this world or the next that would’ve stopped Logan. It’s not his fault.”

The phone buzzed incessantly.

“Are you going to answer that thing?”

Taking a deep breath, I did indeed answer.

“What do you want, Logan?” I asked, my tone weary.

“Yeah, Logan,” Artemis mocked blatantly in the background, the bourbon catching up to him over the course of the night. What do you want?”

It was silent.

He’d frozen.

“Evelyn,” Artemis stood, fire in his eye. “Give me the phone.”