Chapter 137

Elijah

I strode out of the ballroom, my chest tight and my head spinning. The cool night air hit me like a slap to the face as I pushed through the hotel’s heavy glass doors, my polished shoes clicking against the pavement.

I didn’t stop until I reached the outer wall, where I leaned heavily against the rough brick, inhaling deeply through my nose. The scent of damp earth and distant rain filled my lungs, grounding me in reality as I tried to shake off the strange pull that had coursed through me mere moments ago.

Inside, during that last altercation with Olivia, I’d felt it again—that subtle tug on the mate bond.

But this time, it was… different.

It wasn’t the overwhelming flood I’d grown used to, the kind that left me dizzy and drowning in her presence. No, this was quieter, like a whisper on the wind, so faint I almost doubted it was real. But it was there, stirring my wolf, making my skin prickle with heat.

I clenched my jaw just at the thought.

My mind churned, replaying the scene. Olivia had sipped from that vial, claiming it was her postpartum depression medication, and the moment the liquid touched her lips, my body had reacted—straining toward her, my fingers digging into Agnes’s dress like she was my anchor.

I’d assumed the worst, as always. Assumed she was manipulating me again, using the bond to toy with my senses. But now, standing here with the night pressing in around me, guilt gnawed at my gut. What if I was wrong?

I exhaled sharply, my breath fogging in the chilly air. What if Olivia wasn’t the villain I’d painted her to be? What if she hadn’t made Agnes’s wolf disappear all those years ago? My stomach twisted at the thought. Hell, what if she really was my fated mate—untampered, unmanipulated—and I’d been fighting against something natural all this time?

The idea sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold. Maybe she hadn’t been pulling strings during all those moments when the bond flared to life, overwhelming me with desire. Maybe I was drawn to her because she was mine, because we belonged together, and I’d been too stubborn, too blinded by my obsession with Agnes, to see it for what it really was.

I missed her. I missed Olivia, my mate… and seeing her taking medication to cure her depression just filled me with a dread so deep I could hardly stomach it.

“We should be comforting her, not the medicine,” my wolf growled, irritated. “She’s our mate, and we cast her aside.”

My jaw ticked again. “She abused our daughter.”

“She was sick.”

I felt like I was going to vomit. I pressed my palms against the wall, the rough texture biting into my skin, and closed my eyes. Olivia’s face flashed behind my lids—her crimson dress, her honeyed smile, the way her tears had glistened earlier in my office.

Then Agnes’s face replaced hers—those wide, trusting eyes, the flush on her cheeks when I’d kissed her, driven by the lingering effects of the mate bond with Olivia. My heart thrummed in my chest, caught between the two of them, and I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

I stayed out there longer than I meant to, letting the night air cool the sweat on my brow. Finally, I straightened, smoothing down my tuxedo jacket. I couldn’t stay out here forever.

When I stepped back into the ballroom, my eyes scanned the crowd. I spotted Agnes by the bar, sipping from a glass of wine.

She looked radiant, of course, the midnight blue dress hugging her curves like it was made for her—which, knowing her talent, it probably was. The beadwork on the bodice glimmered under the chandeliers, tiny stars against the deep silk, and the way the fabric dipped low at her back made my pulse quicken.

Agnes was beautiful, so beautiful that my chest momentarily softened, the knot of confusion loosening just a little.

Despite everything, she was still my chosen mate. My wife.

But we had never officially tied the knot, had we? We’d just signed our names at the bottom of a contract.

I crossed the room, my steps slowing as I approached. She turned, sensing me before I even reached her, and her eyes met mine. A small smile curved her lips, and I felt a flutter in my stomach, the same one I’d felt when she’d leaned toward me against the door last week. When her tears had whispered against her skin and I’d wanted to kiss her, comfort her.

“You’re back,” she said simply, holding out a glass of whiskey on the rocks.

I took it, my fingers brushing hers. “Thanks.” I lifted the glass to my lips, the burn of the liquor steadying me. “You okay after all that?”

She nodded, although her gaze flickered briefly to where Olivia had disappeared into the crowd earlier. “Yeah. You?”

I nodded, even though it felt like a lie.

Later, after the party, we returned home in near silence. When we stepped inside, Thea was already asleep, and the house was quiet.

Agnes hesitated in the living room, smoothing down her dress. “I feel bad about all the drama tonight,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I didn’t mean for it to turn into… that.”

I shook my head, stepping closer. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was.”

She bit her lip, then brightened, as if an idea had struck her. “Wait here,” she said, disappearing down the hall. When she returned, she was holding a sketchpad, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened it. “I’ve been working on something for you. To say thank you—for everything you do for me. I wanted it to be a surprise, but...”

My heart thudded as she turned the pad toward me. It was a suit—sharp lines, a deep charcoal gray with subtle stitching along the lapels, tailored to perfection. Faint embroidery around the buttonholes, depicting small vines.

The design was bold yet elegant, the kind of thing I’d wear to feel unstoppable. My throat tightened as I took it in, the care she’d put into every detail warming me from the inside out.

“Agnes,” I said, my eyes meeting hers. “It’s incredible. I love it.”

Her smile widened, a flush spreading across her cheeks. “Really? I was hoping you’d like it. It’s just a prototype, but I can finish it soon.”

“It’s perfect,” I told her, and I really did mean every word. I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d think if she knew the full extent of my plans, but I pushed the thought aside for now. “Speaking of your designs, how’s the gown I asked you to make coming along?”

She tilted her head, setting the sketchpad on the coffee table. “The gown? The first prototype is almost done. I’ve been tweaking the fabric swatches—trying to get the drape just right.”

“Good. I’d love for you to finish both—the gown and the suit—for the event coming up. The formal gala next month.”

She nodded. “Okay. I can do that,” she said, and I knew she could, even though it was a lot to do in a short amount of time.

We stood there for a moment, the air between us feeling strangely charged. I wanted to pull her to me, to kiss her like I had in my office, but the memory of the glowing mate mark held me back. Instead, I took a step back.

“Get some rest. It’s been a long day.”

She nodded, her eyes lingering on mine before she turned and headed upstairs. I watched her go, my heart thrumming in my chest at the sight of her hips swinging gracefully in her dress, then made my way to my own room.

Once inside, I loosened my tie and tossed my jacket over the chair. I crossed to the dresser and glanced over my shoulder before pulling the top drawer open.

There, nestled in the back, was a small velvet box. I carefully pulled it out and snapped the lid open to reveal the wedding bands I’d had custom-made months ago.

Two simple rings, one etched with a crescent moon, the other with a faint constellation—symbols of us, of what I hoped we could be.

Agnes had no idea she was designing our wedding attire, that the “formal gala” was a lie to keep her in the dark until the moment I slipped that ring on her finger.

I missed Olivia, my mate. Nothing could change that.

But I loved Agnes now. And I wanted to prove it to her, against all odds, with a proper wedding.

I just hoped it wouldn’t make Olivia retaliate in the worst way possible. And I hoped, even more than that, that I could find a way to unmark her before that day came.