Chapter 55

Alaric

I’d been pacing relentlessly in my office for what felt like hours now, my mind whirling. But surprisingly, despite everything—despite the attempted arranged marriage to Emily, my mother’s false promises, the Harrington pulling out of several business ventures—my mind was elsewhere tonight.

It wasn’t business that I was obsessing over. It was Elara who I couldn’t stop thinking about.

She hadn’t left my mind since the banquet. I couldn’t stop feeling her since she had kissed me beneath the stars, her lips soft and desperate against mine, her fingers curling around my biceps.

Hell, if I was being honest with myself, she hadn’t really left my thoughts since the night I had marked her. The way she gasped when my fangs pierced her soft skin, the heat between us despite the cold water, her pulse suddenly hammering through the new bond we’d created…

Even now, just thinking about it, I felt something warm and unfamiliar stir inside of me. If I closed my eyes, it was almost as if I was there again, holding her against me in that cold shower, feeling her slender body pressed to mine.

It was only a couple of nights ago, and yet I hadn’t been able to go near her since then without thinking about it—without wanting more. I couldn’t even bring myself to share our bed for fear of taking things further when now wasn’t the right time. And that was dangerous.

I stopped at the edge of my desk, my palms pressing flat against the wood as I leaned into it, my head hung low. The muscles in my back tightened until the ache spread through my shoulders. It was pathetic. I felt pathetic, and I hated it.

Last night, I told her it was a mistake. I had looked her straight in the eye and said the words that, even as they left my mouth, made me feel like the biggest bastard alive.

A mistake.

Without even meaning to, I had made it out like she was nothing to me. Like I hadn’t felt her trembling beneath my hands when I’d said those words. Like I hadn’t noticed the way her heart pounded through the bond, pain and fear and abhorrence thrumming through the space between us.

Like I hadn’t felt devastated when she suddenly snapped those mental walls up and hid our connection, forcing a placid expression onto her face.

The truth was simpler. And it was far, far uglier.

I was afraid.

I was afraid of her. I was afraid of this. I was afraid of whatever had begun growing between us since we had met—all the stolen glances, the secret touches, the tender smiles, the way she’d looked even more gorgeous in Sarah’s dress than I’d ever expected.

Truthfully, I had begun to fall for her. But I couldn’t let it happen. Not after Sarah. Not after the last woman I had let myself love had disappeared in a fire.

Not died. Disappeared. No body had been recovered, not even so much as a bone. And now…

Without thinking, I slipped my hand into my pocket and pulled out the earring Ella had found. It really did look just like a pair of earrings that Sarah used to wear all of the time, only now with traces of that strange red powder on it. I’d put it in a small plastic baggie for testing, and had meant to send it to the lab along with the rest of the red powder, but had held onto it instead.

I wasn’t sure why.

All I knew now was that ever since Sarah left, I couldn’t bring myself to love anyone. Except for Ella, and now Zoe, of course, but that was different. I couldn’t love another woman in that way.

It wasn’t even because I didn’t want to, either. I hadn’t been wallowing all these years like a lovesick coward, and not because I was delusionally believing that Sarah was alive, that she would return. But because I was terrified that if I did somehow come to love someone, then something horrible would happen to them, too.

Because maybe—just maybe—this was a curse. Maybe, if I loved anyone else, they’d meet a horrible fate just like Sarah had.

But in my fear, I had hurt Elara badly. Even if it wasn’t a curse, I was becoming a self-fulfilling prophecy and harming the people I cared for.

I squeezed my eyes shut, swallowing the lump in my throat, and instinctively reached out toward the bond just to see if she was there. Of course, I felt nothing. She had shut off our connection like turning off a faucet, and there wasn’t so much as a drip left in that empty space between us.

Even though it had only been a couple of days since I had marked her, I had sort of grown used to feeling her already. Even when she was on the other side of the house, I could always sense the faint hum of her pulse beating in tandem with mine.

And when she was close to me, even if she didn’t realize it, I could sense her every emotion like an open book. It was… endearing, discovering that the woman who always seemed to put up the strongest facade secretly wore her heart on her sleeve.

But now, it was as cold and silent as ever, like it hadn’t even been there to begin with.

And I fucking hated it.

The knock on the door barely registered in my mind at first. I blinked, snapping upright as James cracked the study door open, holding his phone.

“Alpha,” James said carefully, handing me the phone, “there’s something you need to see. An email. It’s… sensitive.”

I waved him off and plopped down in my chair. “I’m not interested in business right now, James.”

“It’s not business.”

Something about his tone made me lift my head. I sighed heavily, taking the phone. “Fine. Let’s get this over with,” I said, expecting it to be something mundane. But it was anything but.

It was a photograph of two figures hugging in a parking lot with a neon strip club sign behind them. One of them was Elara—I could tell from the hood of her familiar black jacket being pushed back just a little, just enough to expose her chestnut curls, her slender hands wrapped around the man’s shoulders.

And the man in question was Asher.

My heart stopped in my chest, and I stared at the image long enough for the edges to start to blur.

“Son of a bitch,” I finally choked out.

James shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. “It’s from the tabloid,” he explained. “They’re threatening to publish this photo unless we… make a donation to their cause.”

“How much?”

“Twenty grand.”

I pulled out my wallet, tossing a black card onto the desk. “Pay them.”

James hesitated. “You don’t even want to—”

“I said pay them.”

My Beta gave a curt nod and disappeared from the room without another word, leaving me alone once more, glaring at the grains of wood in my desk with a spark in my eyes that very well could set the whole thing on fire.

Asher.

Of all the men in the world, of all the people she could turn to—why him? What the hell was she thinking?

Did she really not know? Did she think Asher would comfort her, provide her with a genuine connection? Asher didn’t do anything unless it benefitted him and him only, and if he had his hands on Elara now, it certainly wasn’t because he gave a damn about her.

I ran a hand down my face, exhaling slowly as I tried to ignore the ice that was spreading through my chest.

Was it my fault?

Had I pushed her to this?

I had told her that marking her was a mistake. Maybe I had practically shoved her into the arms of the one man I swore I would kill if he ever stepped foot near her again. And now here I was, paying off the press just to keep it quiet.

No.

I forced the thought down, stuffing it somewhere deep and dark where I wouldn’t have to face it. If Elara wanted to run to Asher—if she was truly interested in that scumbag—then I wouldn’t stop her.