Chapter 39

Chiara

The arena is still buzzing half an hour later, and we are still taking congratulations from passing pack members. As time goes on, my pulse finally begins to slow from the rush of victory, but I can’t stop smiling.

For once, things feel right.

Vedant stands a few feet away, his hands on his hips as he talks to another competitor offering their congratulations. In the rush of everything that followed the competition, we haven’t spoken a word to each other, not even after we shared that awkward and intense hug.

I tell myself he’s just tired and overwhelmed, ignoring the fact that he was like this before we were even standing at the starting line.

There’s something else there. Something he’s not saying.

I want to ask him about it, but I have a feeling he will dodge the question. We might have just won the doubles match together, but he was so eager to talk to anyone besides me, I know that whatever is off with him is somehow my fault.

I’m fretting about this and staring at my partner from across the field when a smooth voice cuts through the noise behind us.

“Well, well. The winning woman.”

I turn and find myself staring into the familiar sharp smile of a man I have never spoken to in real life, but who I know well. You can’t be alive without knowing who Matthew is.

Matthew is the future Alpha of the neighboring pack, and he commands every room he’s in. Even now, a cluster of girls is straining to get a better look at him.

His posture has effortless confidence, and every movement is measured, every word smooth as silk. I’ve seen him before in news articles, always surrounded by people who are just as influential and beautiful as he is.

“Chiara, right?” he asks, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that makes me feel like Im on display. “You were incredible out there. I was absolutely mesmerizing. I can see why everyone’s talking about you.”

“Thank you,” I say cautiously. “It was a team effort.”

“Oh, I saw,” he says, glancing back at Vedant. “But I also saw how much effort you put in.”

Before I can correct him again, Matthew takes another step closer, lowering his voice just enough to make it sound conspiratorial. “You’ve definitely caught my interest,” he tells me.

“Well, thank you. I’m flattered.” It takes every ounce of my remaining energy to keep my voice from wavering.

“How could I not?” he says. “I mean, you were the star of the show.”

He’s so close I can smell his cologne, so close I can see the flecks of amber around his irises. It’s so intimate, I want to take a step back. But I tell myself not to; I don’t want to seem weak.

And then he asks something totally blindsiding: “Tell me, Chiara, do you have a mate?”

The question hits like a physical blow. I blink, my mouth opening then closing again. Nothing comes out. My heartbeat roars in my ears like I’ve just competed all over again.

I struggle for words. It seems like he’s hitting on me, but surely someone as high up and powerful as Matthew has better options.

“I—”

“She’s not interested.”

Vedant’s voice cuts me off, slicing through the air, sharp enough to draw a few curious looks from those nearby.

Matthew turns as well, seeing Vedant standing right behind him now. He raises an eyebrow, a slow, taunting smile spreading across his face. “I don’t recall asking you, Vedant.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Vedant says, stepping between us. “The answer would be the same anyway.”

His tone is calm, yet his eyes are anything but. I can feel the tension radiating off him like heat.

And yet I’ve been rendered mute. I can only watch as these men take swipes at each other.

“Easy,” Matthew says, feigning innocence. “I was just making conversation.”

“You asked your question, and now you have your answer. Find someone else to talk to.” Vedant’s jaw tightens. “Me and my partner are busy.”

For a second, I think Matthew might push back, but the flicker of warning in Vedant’s eyes makes him reconsider. Matthew would have every right to defend himself and argue, as he is in a place of power above Vedant. But I can also tell Vedant won’t take no for an answer, and he won’t relax until Matthew has walked away.

Immovable object meets unstoppable force.

With a scoff and a lazy shrug, Matthew turns. “Fine. Enjoy your victory lap while it lasts.”

He walks off, pulling the attention of half of the arena as he goes.

I turn to Vedant, my heart still hammering. “What was that?”

He exhales sharply, looking anywhere but at me. “He was out of line.”

“No, I meant you. I can handle myself, you know.”

“I know,” he says too quickly. His tone softens. “I just didn’t like the way he cornered and asked you something so.. personal.”

For a heartbeat, we just stand there, caught in the strange, silent current between us. I’m not sure what to say. I’m not even sure how I feel.

As if to save us from this awkward silence, one of the event organizers jogs over, breaking the tension. “Congratulations again! We’ve got even more exciting news for our champions!”

Vedant straightens, grateful for the interruption. But his eyes don’t leave me as he speaks. Where before, he couldn’t even look at me, now he can’t seem to look away. “What is it?”

The organizer grins. “The council has arranged a little getaway for the winners. We’ve scheduled a weekend retreat, so pack your bags! You’ll leave tomorrow morning. It’s all been planned out: lodging, meals, absolutely everything! You won’t have to worry about a thing.”

My stomach drops. This means more time with Vedant and his mercurial mood. I should be thrilled by the idea, but after how today has unfolded, I feel like we’ve lost our footing, and the idea of being together for so long is daunting.

So, I ask for clarification, hoping I assumed incorrectly. “Both of us will be going?”

“Of course! It’s a team victory, after all,” the organizer says brightly. “We want you to enjoy it together. Like I said, make sure you pack everything up tonight. We’ll meet back here at sunrise tomorrow before we head out.”

When he walks away, I glance at Vedant. His expression mirrors mine. We are both in disbelief, and something is making us seem bashful.

A trip. Alone. Together. It’s too much.

He clears his throat first. “Guess we’re… going on a vacation.”

But he doesn’t sound thrilled. He just sounds uncomfortable.

I try to laugh, but it comes out nervous and thin. “Right. Just what we need.”

He gives a small, unreadable smile, but his eyes linger on me a moment too long before he looks away. He doesn’t look back, and we don’t speak for the rest of the night.

And as we part for the evening, I can’t shake the thought that whatever’s happening between us, whatever he’s hiding, is weighing heavily on him, and it’s only going to get harder to ignore once we’re truly alone.