Chapter 170

DEREK

I hadn’t slept much.

Which wasn’t unusual lately. Not since the sentencing. Not since Elena had looked me dead in the eye and told me that she wanted nothing more to do with me.

The words still echoed. Still hit like a shifting blade to the chest every time they replayed in my mind. And they replayed constantly.

I’d tried calling her again. Once. Just to say… I didn’t even know what. That I missed her. That I was sorry. That I’d never meant for things to happen this way. But she didn’t answer.

Aiden did.

He chatted like nothing had changed. Asked if I’d seen the new Moonstone banners going up at the community center. Told me about the snacks they’d had after Mason’s ceremony and how he thought maybe he’d want to be Alpha someday.

And then he’d asked if I was coming over that weekend.

I hadn’t even known what to say.

Now I found myself standing at the door to the old Alpha’s study. Not Mason’s—the one their father had used for years. The one with the heavy wooden desk and the stone fireplace and the mounted crest over the mantle. The scent of old leather and pipe smoke still lingered faintly in the air.

He looked up as I stepped in.

“Derek,” he said simply.

I nodded. “Do you have a minute?”

He gestured to the chair across from him. “Of course.”

I sat. It felt strange, asking a favor from a man who’d once practically ordered me to stay away from his daughter. And stranger still knowing I was doing it after she’d already told me she didn’t want me in her life.

But I had to try.

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to hear from right now,” I began. “But I was hoping… hoping you might talk to her. Just let her know I didn’t mean for things to go the way they did.”

Moonstone’s former Alpha studied me for a long time.

“I respect you, Derek,” he said at last. “I always have. What you’ve built, what you’ve survived… it speaks to your strength.”

My jaw tightened. “But?”

“But Elena is an adult,” he said simply. “And she’s not mine to direct anymore. She hasn’t been for a long time. I can love her, and guide her when she asks. But I can’t choose her path. And I wouldn’t want to.”

I sat back, jaw working.

“She won’t even speak to me,” I admitted. “She won’t give me the chance to explain. I just… I didn’t think having dinner with Cassandra would be the thing that cost me everything.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

“Don’t ask me to defend Cassandra,” he said. “But I know what it's like to be young and foolish. To think you can fix something by doing what’s ‘practical.’ Sometimes our attempts to smooth things over only create more cracks.”

He paused.

“I wish I could help you. I do. But I’m not the Alpha anymore. Maybe you should talk to Mason.”

A strange bitterness welled in my throat. Mason. Of course. He was Alpha now. And closer to Elena than ever.

I nodded stiffly and stood.

“Thank you for your time,” I said.

He gave a slow, respectful nod in return. “I do hope it works out, Derek. For what it’s worth.”

---

I didn’t go to Mason. Not yet. Not until I had something more than words to bring him.

Instead, I returned to my office and shut the door. Pulled out the folders I’d been gathering—maps, zoning documents, records of building permits and council minutes. If Elena wouldn’t talk to me, I’d find another way to support her.

She needed permits. She needed access.

The rogue foundation building Jacob had found for her was brilliant, strategically placed just across the bridge into roguelands—but it was a bureaucratic nightmare. Three different neighborhood councils held overlapping jurisdiction on that block. Two of them were in the middle of reelections. The third had just fired its planning director for mishandling grant funds.

It was a mess. But it was the kind of mess I could clean up.

I’d done this before—fought for approval on more complicated developments, worked council back channels, and found the right people to nudge a vote in the right direction.

I made calls. Took meetings. Greased the wheels.

Even if she never knew… I would still help her build it.

Still give her this.

Even if I never got to see her name etched on the front of the building, I’d know.

She mattered. Her work mattered. And I wasn’t going to let politics or petty grudges get in the way of that.

Still, the silence from her was a wound that never stopped aching.

That afternoon, my phone buzzed. I didn’t recognize the number.

I almost didn’t answer.

But some part of me—worn down, tired, curious—picked up anyway.

“Hello?”

“Derek,” came the unmistakable voice on the other end. Smooth. Too smooth.

Cassandra.

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “What do you want?”

“I heard our little dinner wasn’t well received,” she said breezily. “Caroline has quite the grapevine these days.”

I ground my teeth. “I should have a talk with Caroline.”

“Oh, don’t blame her. She only tells me what she thinks I already know.” Cassandra’s voice softened slightly. “But… it sounds like it may have ended things for good.”

I said nothing.

“Even though I know you hate me,” she went on, “I’ll always be your friend, Derek.”

I thought about what she’d done. The lies. The manipulation. The secrets.

But I also remembered that day in the woods. Waking up and seeing the rogues she’d killed with her bow and arrows. She’d been my savior.

That scar on her arm had never quite faded.

“Listen, Cassandra,” I said slowly. “I’d like to say the same to you. But I’m not sure I’m ready. Maybe one day.”

There was a pause.

Then she said, her tone surprisingly sincere, “That’s good enough for me. And listen… if Elena ever comes to her senses and comes back to you, please know that my offer to help her foundation was genuine. Time, money, connections—anything I can do to make up for what I did. Truly.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. So I said nothing.

We ended the call a moment later.

And I sat there, staring at the phone.

Wondering how everything had gotten so twisted.

CASSANDRA

I ended the call and let the silence settle around me like a silk curtain falling shut. Smooth. Soft. Final.

Then, slowly, a smile curved across my lips.

I had him again.

Not completely. Not like before. But close enough.

Close enough to matter.

He’d picked up the phone. That was the first crack. And when I offered him friendship—me, the villain, the outcast—he hadn’t slammed the door. He’d hesitated. And that hesitation was everything.

I crossed the room to the liquor cart and poured myself a glass of red wine. The kind he always said tasted like old wood and firelight. He didn’t even like red wine. But I did. So he drank it.

I lifted the glass, watching the light catch in the dark crimson swirl.

It had taken time to get back here. So many missteps. So many opportunities wasted. But now?

Now, the world was shifting again. Elena was angry. Hurt. Distant. And Derek? Derek was drowning in the guilt of it all, still trying to do the right thing from behind the scenes.

Always the hero.

But even heroes break.

I let my fingers drift to the scar on my arm. The one I’d shown him a thousand times. The mark of sacrifice. Proof that once, I’d saved his life.

That story had carried me through years of loyalty. Years of him looking at me like I was someone worth protecting.

My smile faltered.

“Cassandra of the Stolen Glory.”

The priestess’s voice came back to me, cold and laced with something too ancient for comfort. She’d looked at me as if she could see everything—every lie, every half-truth, every inch of blood that wasn’t mine to claim.

I shut my eyes and tried to shake it.

She didn’t know everything. She didn’t know what it cost. What it still costs.

Because I had kept that secret for years. Tethered it tight. Locked it behind charm and tragedy and just enough truth to keep suspicion at bay.

But sometimes—when the wind howled just right, or when Derek looked at me like I was something precious—I remembered.

I remembered the truth.

And I prayed he never would.

Because if he ever found out what really happened in those woods, what I did before I found him—before I played the part of his savior—everything I’d built would fall to ash.

So I wouldn’t let him find out.

Not ever.

Not now.

Not when I was this close.

I raised my glass to my lips and drank deep.

This time, I would win.