Chapter 53

Elara

Alaric’s lips were warm, firm, and tasted as dark and rich as spiced whiskey. For a moment, it felt like the world had shifted, tilting into something softer—something that made sense. I could feel his heartbeat through his shirt, the steady thrum pulling me closer.

But then Alaric stiffened.

His hand, the one resting lightly against the small of my back, withdrew as if I had burned him. I barely had time to open my eyes before he was already pulling back, his gaze dark and unreadable.

“What are you doing?” His voice was calm, too calm. The kind of calm that felt cold, like a steel door slamming shut for good.

I blinked, disoriented. “I thought—”

“I’m sorry.” Alaric shook his head, stepping back far enough that the night air crept into the space between us, making me feel suddenly cold. His expression didn’t shift, but something flickered behind his eyes. Regret, maybe? Or worse—pity.

The weight of his next words felt heavier than the silence that followed. “Elara, the things I said earlier… I hope you know I’m only doing this for the girls. For the next six months. And as for what we did yesterday…”

His eyes flicked momentarily to the mark on my neck, and he sucked in a sharp breath as if just the act of looking at it hurt him. “Well, that was a mistake. You didn’t read too far into it, did you?”

Each syllable felt like a knife in my chest, with that one word like a painful twist.

Mistake.

My stomach dropped. I felt my pulse thundering in my ears, the bond between us vibrating with the remnants of my lingering desire and his sudden detachment. I wanted to scream at him, to force him to feel the way my heart cracked, piece by piece, at the divide he was so willing to carve between us so soon after he had marked me.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I lifted my chin, shoving the pain down and locking it behind the mental walls I’d learned to build far too well. The bond between us dimmed as I closed myself off from him, severing the mate connection.

It was still there, of course—it would always be there until we figured out a way to unmark each other—but I couldn’t feel his pulse through it anymore. And most importantly, he couldn’t feel mine.

“Of course not,” I said lightly, ignoring the way my throat tightened around the words. “I understand. I’m not sure why I did that just now.”

Alaric hesitated, but only for a second. Then he nodded and turned away, disappearing back inside the banquet hall without another glance.

And just like that, I was alone.

I wrapped my arms around myself, sank down onto the edge of the fountain, and willed myself not to cry.

…

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the empty side of the bed. I stared at the chilly, untouched pillow for far longer than I cared to admit, my eyes tracing the outline of where his head should have been.

He hadn’t come to bed last night. Again.

Against my wishes, memories of that kiss last night slipped back in. He’d tasted so sweet, and yet cold like iron at the same time. And then he had pushed me away and told me not to read into it, told me that it wasn’t what I thought it was, that marking me was a mistake.

I hated the way it made my heart hurt. Ever since Mason, I’d always told myself that I wouldn’t get hurt in love again. I thought that I had built up some solid defenses, impenetrable walls like a fortress around my heart.

But I supposed I was wrong. Somehow, I had fallen for a man who didn’t feel the same way about me. And what was even more painful, for some reason, was knowing that I couldn’t exactly blame him.

He’d been pretty clear about what this ‘relationship’ was from the start.

I’d just been the fool who hoped for it to turn into something more.

By the time I made my way downstairs a little while later, the house was eerily quiet. I found James in the kitchen, his brow furrowed as he whispered frantically into his phone.

“I know, I’m trying to handle it,” he muttered, pacing near the stove. “No, she doesn’t know yet. Alpha Alaric said he’d tell her when the time was right.”

I crossed my arms. “Tell me what?”

James spun around so fast he nearly dropped his phone. “Luna Elara. Good morning. I was just…” His gaze darted to the floor, and I narrowed my eyes.

“James.” I folded my arms across my chest and lifted one eyebrow. “What’s going on?”

He hesitated for a moment longer before finally sighing. “It’s Emily’s family. They cut Alpha Alaric off from several business ventures overnight. Apparently, Grace promised them quite a few things in exchange for that marriage arrangement. When Alaric humiliated Emily at the banquet, they retaliated. Hard.”

I felt my stomach drop. “And Alaric didn’t tell me?”

James gave me a sympathetic look. “He’s been handling it since dawn. He didn’t want to worry you.”

Didn’t want to worry me. As if I wasn’t already unraveling at the seams.

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, but the guilt still festered. This was my fault, wasn’t it? If I hadn’t been marked, if I hadn’t gotten in the way of whatever twisted marriage Grace had planned—maybe none of this would have happened.

But it had. And now not only Alaric, the man I had fallen for despite my best efforts not to, was suffering. Even more importantly, the girls would suffer too if things got worse. I couldn’t let that happen.

My hand drifted to my pocket, and the cool edge of a business card brushed against my fingertips. I’d forgotten about it until now, but as I pulled it out and stared at the name printed across the surface, something inside me stirred.

Asher.

I didn’t know why I kept his card. Maybe it was curiosity. Or… just in case.

As I stared down at the card, gritting my teeth, my mind flitted back to the last time I saw Asher—the auction. He was a downright bastard for that, and yet…

“I saved her from being bought by another man,” he had said.

Was he actually planning on using me, my body, for a nefarious purpose? Or was he, in his own way, trying to help me and his brother?

And most importantly, would he help us now?

I glanced at James, who was now distracted by another call, and without giving myself the chance to overthink, I slipped into the next room and dialed the number.

He answered on the second ring. “Elara. I was wondering when you’d call.”

His voice, smooth and velvety, made me grip the phone tighter. “I need to talk. In person,” I said quietly.

There was a pause. “Interesting. I didn’t think you’d be the type to seek me out.”

“I’m not. But this is important.”

Asher hummed softly. “Very well. Tonight. Let’s keep this between us, shall we?”

I hesitated, but nodded. “Fine.”

Later that night, I slipped out of the house, telling James I was meeting a friend for drinks. Alaric still wasn’t home yet, although I doubted he would notice my absence even if he was.

The bar Asher told me to meet him at was discreet, tucked away beneath a neon sign that flickered faintly in the dark sky. The air inside was warm and smelled strongly of cigars and whiskey, making me wrinkle my nose, and women dressed in lingerie were dancing on a stage.

“Of course the fucker would choose a strip club,” I hissed under my breath, pulling my jacket hood further over my face to hide my identity. The last thing I needed, after everything, was the media to somehow get ahold of gossip surrounding Alpha Alaric’s Omega mate cavorting with his brother in a strip club.

I spotted Asher almost immediately—seated in a private booth near the back, one arm draped casually across the edge of the seat.

His eyes caught mine as I approached, and his lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.

“Elara, sit,” he said, moving over and gesturing to the spot right next to him.