Chapter 22

Elena

Fury coursed through my veins like molten lava as Tiffany’s smug smile widened. A babysitter. Killian had just assigned me a fucking babysitter like I was some unruly child who couldn’t be trusted to tie her own shoes.

“I already have bodyguards,” I ground out through clenched teeth, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “I don’t need a keeper. I won’t accept this.”

Killian didn’t waver. “It wasn’t a question, Elena. Your bodyguards were busy at the event, leaving you unprotected. You used them without informing me of your plans.”

“I used them to save the lives of our people!”

“And you left yourself vulnerable in the process.” He gestured toward Tiffany, who was practically bubbling with giddy glee. “Tiffany is one of our best fighters. She can protect you properly.”

“I can protect myself.”

“No, you can’t. You don’t know the first thing about self defense, Elena.”

Killian’s words made something sharp and painful twist in my chest, mostly because he was right. Despite being the daughter of one of Waning Moon’s greatest warriors, I’d never been taught even basic self-defense. My father had died in battle when I was barely six years old, before he could pass on any of his skills.

After that, my adoptive family had made sure I stayed weak and helpless. Alice had always said fighting was unladylike, that I should focus on being quiet and obedient instead. And I’d listened, desperate for any scrap of approval even though I never got it anyway.

And then, in my attempts to please Killian, I had eaten too little and had never cared about building up muscle. I thought, for some reason, that if I was slender and “feminine” enough, he would finally love me. It had only made me even weaker.

The thought filled me with self-disgust. All those years wasted trying to be the perfect, helpless little dove they wanted me to be. Well, that version of me was dead and buried.

Maybe it was time I learned to fight after all. Once I left this place—and I would leave, divorce or no divorce—I’d need to defend myself. I couldn’t rely on anyone else to protect me. Not anymore.

But I had a long way to go before I could start practicing self-defense. I had gained two pounds just from eating properly these past weeks, but I still needed to gain more, and I needed to build up my muscle.

Suddenly, my escape from this marriage seemed to have a million more obstacles. Keeping Natalie from accusing me of plotting her “death”, preparing enough money and resources to slip away, and now this… It was exhausting.

“This is for your own good, Elena,” Killian continued, clearly taking my silence as acceptance. “I do worry about you, even if you don’t think I do.”

I almost laughed out loud at that. Worried about me? He’d literally choked me to death in my past life. The only thing he was worried about was losing control over me, and we both knew it.

This wasn’t about protection. This was about monitoring my every move, making sure I couldn’t meet with Jaxon or defy him or do anything that might threaten his precious reputation.

But I kept my thoughts to myself, forcing my face into a mask of calm acceptance. If he wanted to play games, then fine. Two could play at that.

“Of course, Alpha,” I said, my voice sickeningly sweet. “Whatever you think is best.”

His eyes narrowed slightly at my condescending tone, but before he could question it, I flashed him a bright smile.

“Well then, shall we return to the banquet? I wouldn’t want to miss the rest of your celebration, darling.” The word of endearment tasted like ash on my tongue, but I kept my smile serene and loving like the perfect little wife he wanted me to be.

Without waiting for a response, I swept past them both and headed back toward the main hall. I heard Tiffany’s heels clicking rapidly behind me as she hurried to keep up with my quick strides, and I walked a little faster just to make her work for it.

The banquet was still in full swing when we returned, although the energy had shifted. Where before there had been an undercurrent of tension from the attack, now there was almost a celebratory atmosphere. People kept glancing my way with something that looked suspiciously like respect.

It was a novel experience for me. No one ever looked at me like that.

I made my way through the crowd, accepting congratulations and thanks with practiced grace while hyper-aware of Tiffany hovering at my elbow like my shadow. Every time I turned, she was there. When I stopped to speak with someone, she made sure to stand close enough to hear every word. When I reached for a glass of champagne, she practically snatched it from the waiter’s tray to inspect it first.

By the time we’d made two circuits of the room, I was ready to strangle her with my bare hands.

I’d just escaped from a particularly boring conversation with one of Killian’s campaign advisors when a woman approached us. She was young, maybe mid-twenties. Her mascara was smudged as if she’d been crying, but she was smiling.

“Luna Elena?” Her voice quavered as she spoke. “I wanted to thank you. My husband was standing right where that first attacker shifted. If your guards hadn’t been there…”

She trailed off, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. My heart clenched, and I reached out to take her hands in mine.

“I’m just glad everyone is safe,” I said softly. “That’s all that matters.”

The woman shook her head frantically. “No, no, you saved his life. Our children still have their father because of you.” She fumbled with something at her throat, and I realized she was unclasping her necklace. “Please, I want you to have this. It’s not much, but I… I need you to know how grateful we are.”

The necklace was beautiful in its simplicity—a delicate gold chain with a single pearl pendant. Nothing fancy or expensive, but clearly cherished.

“I couldn’t possibly—” I started to protest, but she pressed it into my palm with shaking fingers.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please take it.”

Before I could respond, Tiffany’s hand shot out and plucked the necklace from my grasp. “I’ll need to have this tested first,” she announced, holding it up to the light. “Can’t be too careful. Someone might try to harm our Luna through seemingly innocent gifts.”

The woman’s face crumpled with hurt and confusion. I wanted to snatch the necklace back and tell the woman that her gift was perfect and appreciated. But I couldn’t make a scene, not here with everyone watching. Tiffany and Killian would just use it as another excuse to control me.

So I simply smiled at the woman and said gently, “Thank you for your kindness. Your gift means more to me than you know.”

She nodded, still looking a little hurt by Tiffany’s assumption, and melted back into the crowd. I watched Tiffany slip the necklace into her pocket. She grinned at me. “If I find the necklace to be poison-free, you’ll get it back.”

“How thorough of you,” I muttered under my breath, turning away. “Go ahead and keep it. You can pretend Killian gave it to you if it helps you sleep at night. And in that case, I hope it’s poisoned.”

Tiffany’s head snapped toward me. “What did you say?”

I turned to her with my sweetest, most innocent smile—the one I’d perfected during years of playing the submissive wife. “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”