The Wrong Man

LENA POV

"From whom?" Ethan asked again.

He spoke quietly, but everyone around us had gone silent, making his words easier to hear than he probably expected.

Madam Wynne was clearly waiting for my answer, while my mother kept looking between Ethan and the necklace around my neck. Meanwhile, Lady Rosalind seemed very pleased with the trouble she had caused.

Before I could say anything, Grandmother called for everyone from the Silvercrest bloodline to gather for the final birthday toast.

I had never been so grateful for cake in my life.

"We'll talk later," Ethan said as I stepped away.

I gave him a small smile. "If you still want to."

His face showed his frustration, but before he could follow me, the crowd moved between us.

I could feel the weight of my phone inside my bag, and the message kept running through my mind.

'North gate, ten minutes. Come alone.'

Julian had told me earlier that someone would come for me after the banquet. I had assumed one of his Lycan guards would approach me openly. Apparently, he had changed his mind, or perhaps he simply found it more amusing to make me sneak away from the wolves of my own bloodline.

Sera stirred. 'You're going.'

It wasn't a question.

'Of course I am.'

'And Ethan?'

I glanced across the hall and found him still watching me.

'He'll survive ten minutes without knowing where I am.'

That was probably too optimistic.

I stayed until Grandmother finished her birthday toast, kissed her cheek, and then told my mother I needed some fresh air. She studied me as though she suspected I had another reason for leaving, but all she said was, "Don't stay away too long. Your mate is already acting like a territorial Alpha who suspects something."

I nearly laughed. "I'll be careful."

The north gate was quieter than the front of the estate, with only two Silvercrest guards stationed near the wall. I had barely stepped outside when a black SUV pulled forward from beneath the trees, and one of Julian's guards opened the rear door for me without explanation.

I got in.

The drive took less than fifteen minutes. Julian had not returned to Shadowfang territory. Instead, the vehicle brought me to a private Lycan residence on the outskirts of Silvercrest territory, one of several royal estates reserved for the ruling Lycan bloodline whenever they traveled between pack territories.

A guard led me upstairs and opened a set of double doors.

I stopped when I saw what waited inside.

The room had been turned into a studio, with a large easel positioned near the windows and fresh canvases, brushes, paints and every other supply I had mentioned during our conversation two nights ago. Someone had even arranged the lighting so that the chair near the fireplace faced the brightest part of the room.

Julian stood beside it, no longer wearing the formal jacket from the celebration. His black shirt was open at the collar, and his sleeves were folded to his forearms.

"You came," he said.

"You told me to." I answered.

"That has never stopped you from doing the opposite."

I closed the door behind me. "You bought all this already?"

"You said you could paint."

"I can."

"Then prove it."

I should have been annoyed, but the challenge worked.

I set my bag down and walked to the easel. "You'll have to sit still."

Julian took the chair without complaint, and for the next few minutes, I concentrated on the first sketch. Painting had always been one of the few things capable of silencing everything else in my head, but Julian somehow made that difficult.

It wasn't because he moved because he barely did. It was because every time I looked up, he was already watching me.

I final said. "Stop that."

"Stop what?" He asked cluelessly.

"Looking at me."

"You're painting my face."

"I need to look at you. You don't need to look at me." I shot back at him.

His mouth curved slightly. "That seems unfair."

I tried to ignore him.

Sera wasn't helping either. Whenever Julian was around, she would become strangely quiet and alert, as though she was sensing something she couldn't explain. Every few minutes, I felt that same gentle pull deep inside my chest.

After a while, Julian glanced at my hand. "You're shaking."

I looked down and realized he was right. "It's cold."

"There is fire beside you."

"I noticed."

He leaned back in the chair. "Then you're nervous."

I put the brush down. "Do you enjoy pointing out things people would rather hide?"

He smirked. "Only when they're hiding them badly."

I should have left the conversation there, but instead, I walked toward him. If Julian wanted to study me, I could do the same.

I stopped in front of his chair and reached for his collar, adjusting it slightly.

His hand closed around my wrist. "Is this part of the portrait?"

"Maybe."

His golden eyes lifted to mine, and suddenly the room felt much warmer.

I knew what our bargain had begun as. I knew what I had offered him on Ethan's terrace and what Julian could reasonably expect from the arrangement now, so when he pulled me a little closer, I didn't resist.

But the moment his other hand settled on my waist, a sharp pain shot through the ceremonial mate bond that still connected me to Ethan.

I stiffened.

Julian noticed immediately, and his grip loosened.

I hated that.

"I'm fine." I muttered.

"No."

"I said I'm fine."

"And I said no."

He let go of me completely, and I felt more embarrassed than pain.

"You kissed me before." I pointed that out

"Yes."

"You didn't stop then."

"You told me not to."

His answer left me speechless, and when I looked at Julian, he was no longer smiling.

"Tonight you're standing here because you think you owe me something."

"I made a bargain." I corrected him.

"You agreed to paint my mother's portrait."

"And you agreed to protect me."

"That doesn't make your body part of the payment."

I stared at him.

No one had ever said anything like that to me. In Shadowfang Pack, being Ethan's mate meant following countless rules about my duties as Luna to my Alpha, his bloodline, and the pack.

Even my own Silvercrest bloodline treated mating bonds as obligations a she-wolf was expected to honor and endure, no matter how much she suffered.

Julian made it sound simple. If I didn't want something, I didn't have to offer it.

Sera shifted quietly. 'He means it.'

I stepped back. "Then why did you kiss me the first night?"

Julian held my gaze. "Because I wanted to."

"That's not much better."

"No," he agreed. "But you wanted me to continue."

Heat reached my face, and I returned to the easel before he could see too much of it.

For several minutes, neither of us spoke. Then I remembered why Lady Rosalind's conversation had bothered me so much.

I kept my eyes on the canvas. "Was I the Silvercrest woman?"

Julian didn't answer, and when I looked up at him, he seemed much more serious than before.

"You avoided the question earlier."

"I know."

"Why?"

"Because half the wolves from your bloodline were on the other side of the door."

My heartbeat changed as I slowly lowered the brush. "So there was something to answer."

Julian's gaze stayed on mine. "Years ago, after you crossed into my territory, I asked Rosalind who you were."

The room seemed to become very still.

"Why?"

"You interested me."

That answer affected me more than anything complicated he could have said.

"What happened after that?"

"I left for the northern border before I decided whether to do anything about it."

I threw another question back at him. "And when you came back?"

"You were already bound to Ethan."

Sera rose beneath my skin.

I remembered Lady Rosalind's regret, the unfinished conversation and Julian remembering the red coat I had worn years ago.

"You knew who I was when Ethan introduced me to you later."

"Yes."

"And you never said anything."

"What would you have preferred?" Julian asked. "Congratulations on mating the wrong man?"

My breath caught. Sera went completely still.

Julian seemed to realize what he had said because his eyes narrowed slightly.

"The wrong man?" I repeated.

He stood, bringing himself close enough that I had to tilt my head back.

"You asked whether you were the Silvercrest woman."

I waited.

Julian reached past me, picked up the unfinished sketch and studied it for a moment before looking at me again.

"You were the only one I asked about."

Before I could answer, he placed a thin folder on the table beside my paints.

"What is that?"

"Something else you asked for."

I opened it and immediately saw Ethan's name.

Beneath it was an appointment recommendation for the Northern Territory Development Council.

I looked up sharply. "You said he wasn't qualified."

"He isn't."

"Then why is his name here?"

"Because the position nobody wants is still a position."

I read further.

Six months assigned to the northern border territories. Away from Shadowfang, away from Luma and, most importantly, away from me.

Julian's voice came from behind me. "You wanted time, Lena. This would give you six months."

I looked at the recommendation again. On paper, it was everything Ethan wanted: council access, a prestigious appointment and direct contact with northern Alphas. He would see promotion where anyone more experienced would see six months of difficult territory, endless inspections and packs that resented outside interference.

"You planned this before I came tonight."

"I considered it."

"For me?"

Julian's expression did not change. "For a problem you brought to me."

That answer should have made the arrangement feel safer, but it didn't.

I closed the folder slowly. "If I agree, Ethan will think this is the beginning of everything he wants."

Julian's eyes rested on mine. "Then let him."

Sera went quiet again.

For the first time, I understood that Julian did not need to destroy Ethan to hurt him. He could simply give him exactly what he asked for.