Chapter 73

Agnes

The design room still felt as stifling as it had the very first day I had walked in here. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen, and my heart was pounding faster than ever.

It was everywhere. Somehow, someone had managed to snap a picture of me and Elijah in the midst of an… intimate moment. And now, photographs of me being groped in my lacy pink bra were all over the internet.

I had to tell Elijah about this. He would know what to do.

The designers scattered like startled pigeons as I turned on my heel, my heart hammering in my chest all the way up to Elijah’s office. He looked up from his desk as I walked in without knocking, his brow furrowing immediately at my stormy expression.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, setting aside his pen.

I handed him my phone, and he scrolled through the pictures in silence. His jaw tightened, but his gaze flicked to me with the same unshakeable calm he always seemed to exude. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Elijah—”

He held up a hand to stop me. “You don’t need to worry about this, Agnes. Trust me.”

And I did. Despite all the tension and complexity that wove through our relationship, I trusted him in a way that I hadn’t trusted anyone in years. So I nodded, swallowing down the lump of anxiety that was still lodged in my throat.

“Alright,” I murmured, stepping back as he turned to his phone, already making calls.

The rest of the day passed in a haze. The knowledge of that photo circulating the internet gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside, focusing on my work and Elijah’s assurance that it would be handled.

By the time I got home that evening, I was emotionally spent, ready to collapse on the couch with a glass of wine and my thoughts.

But my phone buzzed as I was digging through the kitchen cupboards, interrupting my plans. Elise’s name popped up on the screen, and a tiny smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. We hadn’t spoken in a while—her being busy with work and me being, well, here.

I answered, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“Hey, stranger,” I greeted.

“Don’t ‘stranger’ me,” Elise shot back. “I’m in town, and I demand to see you.”

“You’re here?” I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my voice.

“Yes, and I’m dragging you out for drinks. You’re not allowed to say no.”

I hesitated, glancing toward the living room where Elijah was seated, typing something on his laptop—likely still dealing with the photograph situation. I wasn’t sure if going out right now was the best idea after all that.

Of course, Elijah was supposed to be my husband in every sense of the word; certainly people expected us to be… intimate sometimes. Even if we really weren’t.

But in the middle of traffic? In our work clothes? It was sure to raise some eyebrows, and the rumors of our indiscretion were bound to be circulating like moths to a flame. Going out on a night like this might just cause even more gossip.

“Elise wants to meet up,” I explained, covering the mouthpiece of the phone.

“You should go,” he said without so much as a moment of hesitation, returning his gaze to his laptop. “It’ll do you good to get out for a bit.”

I hesitated again, but his gaze softened. “Thea and I will be here when you get back,” he said. “Go.”

That was all the encouragement I needed. I did miss Elise; I hadn’t seen her since the Mate Trial. And I supposed we had a lot to catch up on.

The bar Elise picked out was tucked into a quiet corner of the city, a little place with dim lighting, worn leather booths, and just enough noise to feel lively without being overwhelming. I was glad for the low-key atmosphere, as it was the type of place where people were less likely to recognize me—or care that I was here, if they did recognize me.

I spotted her immediately as I walked through the door. She was perched on a barstool with her signature red lipstick and a drink in hand, and she lit up when she saw me, waving me over with exaggerated enthusiasm.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a hug the moment I reached her. “You look amazing.”

I laughed as I sat down beside her. “You’re the one who looks amazing.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she quipped, sliding a menu toward me. “But seriously, Agnes. How’s life as Luna?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the smile that was starting to tug at my lips more and more lately despite… well, despite everything. I ordered a glass of white wine, nothing too strong, then turned to face her.

“It’s… complicated,” I said after a moment. Which was technically true.

“Complicated how?”

“Elise,” I started, a warning in my tone, but she waved me off.

“Come on, you took my place in the Mate Trial and won the damn thing. You’re the Luna now. I want to hear all about it.”

“Yeah, but we’re not…” I glanced around and lowered my voice. “We’re not together like that.”

My friend’s eyes narrowed. “So you’re telling me there’s nothing there?”

“Like I said, it’s complicated,” I repeated, taking a long sip of my drink when the bartender placed it in front of me. “Neither of us is really looking for that kind of relationship right now. And then there’s his ex.”

She gave me a knowing look. “You mean the fact that he’s still technically mated to her.”

I cocked my head a little, saying nothing, but I didn’t need to. Elise was smart—too smart for her own good sometimes. And she had found her mate, after all, so she knew all about how intense those feelings could be.

“Fine, fine. I’ll back off. For now.” She leaned back, raising her glass in mock surrender. “But don’t think I won’t bring this up again.”

We fell into easy conversation after that, catching up on everything we’d missed in each other’s lives. It felt good, normal, to talk about something other than pack politics or my tangled feelings for Elijah.

But the moment was interrupted when a man sidled up to the bar, just a little too close for comfort. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with an air of confidence that bordered on arrogance. He leaned on the counter, flashing a grin at us.

“Ladies,” he drawled, his gaze lingering on Elise for a moment before sliding to me. “What’s a pair like you doing alone?”

“We’re not alone,” Elise said flatly, not bothering to look at him.

“Come on now, don’t be like that,” he said, his grin widening. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“Thank you, but we’re not interested,” I added.

His grin faltered, but he shrugged. “Suit yourselves.”

He walked away, but something about the lingering look he gave me sent an uneasy chill down my spine. Still, I didn’t see him again after that, so I quickly forgot about the whole interaction.

Looking back, I wish I hadn’t.

I excused myself to the bathroom a little while later, weaving through the crowded bar with my head down. The hallway leading to the restrooms was quieter, the noise of the bar fading to a dull hum. I took a deep breath, feeling the pleasant fuzziness in my head from one glass of wine too many. But as I turned the corner, a shadow loomed in front of me, blocking my path.

It was him. The man from before. And he was standing right in front of the bathroom door.

“Excuse me,” I said, trying to step around him, but he moved to block me again.

“Now, don’t be like that,” he said, his voice lower, darker than before. “I just want to talk.”

“I said I’m not interested,” I replied, my pulse quickening. I stepped back, but he advanced, closing the distance between us with alarming ease.

Before I could react, his hands were on me, shoving me back against the wall.

The impact knocked the air from my lungs, and panic lanced through me. As he loomed closer to me, his breath hot and sour against my neck, there was only one name on my mind.

“Elijah!!”