Chapter 263

Grace

Fury simmered in my veins, a relentless fire that mirrored the ache in my bones. The ride back to Mooncrest was a blur of silent tension. Charles, his jaw clenched tight, focused on the road, while I replayed the horrifying revelation in my head. Sean had tried to kill me, again and stole even more years from me.

He wasn't going to get away with it. Even if my last breath was used to kill him, I'd take it. Reaching Mooncrest did little to quell the storm brewing inside me. As we pulled up to Wolfe Medical, a sight straight out of a nightmare greeted us. A horde of reporters, a cacophony of flashing cameras and shouting voices, swarmed the entrance. My heart hammered against my ribs with the sudden surge of panic.

"What in the world…" Charles muttered, his brow furrowed in confusion.

I got ready to get out of the crowd as I saw Amira and Xavier on the steps trying to deal with the press. I rolled down the window. Before I could even process the scene, a reporter, a woman with a hungry glint in her eyes, shoved a microphone in my face.

"Alpha Wolfe? Is it true you're romantically involved with the Lycan King? Are the rumors about a secret relationship true?"

My jaw clenched, frozen. But the feeding frenzy had begun. Another reporter, a burly man with a pushy demeanor, shoved his phone against the window of the car. It was a picture of Charles and me out and about, clearly on a date.

"Doesn't look very platonic, does it, Alpha Wolfe?" the man sneered. "Care to explain this little… rendezvous?"

The world spun around me. The reporters' incessant questions were too much. My throat tightened, a wave of nausea rising in my chest. This wasn't how I envisioned returning to Mooncrest. This wasn't how I wanted the news of our relationship to be revealed either.

Just as I felt the familiar prickle of impending meltdown, a hand clamped firmly on my shoulder. Charles, his expression a stormy mix of anger and protectiveness, stepped in front of me, his voice a low growl.

"That's enough," he said and started to pull away from the front of the building.

People screamed and ran after the car, but he rounded the corner and slipped into the private garage. In the silence of the garage, we both sighed.

"Will it never end?" I asked.

"I'll take the kids home and come back," he said. "Try to stay off the radar until I do, okay?"

I looked at him and nodded. "Thanks."

I got out of the car. I made a beeline for the elevator, fumbling with my keycard as I swiped it. I called Amira and Xavier to meet me upstairs as the doors closed.

The elevator ride was an eternity. I took deep breaths. I didn't have time for this. I had so little time left. I turned and looked at my reflection in the metal of the elevator. As I stared at my reflection, the woman staring back was a stranger. She'd gone mostly grey. She looked exhausted. She was dying, but...

I'm not dead yet.

I whipped out my phone, my fingers flying across the screen as I accessed the news and social media. My heart plummeted as I saw the headlines screaming about my relationship with Charles, drumming up all the old lycan-lover bullshit I had just started to shed. Every news outlet seemed to have a different spin on the photo and a few more to add to the collection, but none of them were of him clean-shaven. I suppose that was one thing. The comment sections were filled with speculation and venomous attacks.

Disgust and anger bubbled within me. This wasn't about the violation of privacy, it was the way they were twisting the narrative to suit their agenda. Just as I was about to give up, a call came in. It was Eason.

The doors opened. I practically slammed through the automatic doors as they opened and answered.

"Grace? You alright?" His voice, laced with concern, crackled through the receiver.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. "Eason, have you seen the news?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "Look, I know this must be a nightmare. But you need to get a handle on this. People are eating it up."

"They're fucking vultures!" I exclaimed, frustration coloring my voice. "What am I supposed--"

"Calm down," Eason said. "It was going to come out. You just need to control the narrative. Get with Xavier and put out a statement. A clear, concise statement sets the record straight."

I shuddered. "I'm not ready."

I had never considered telling the world about us. The idea of issuing a public statement felt… unsettling, putting us out there in the media circus, felt wrong.

"You might not be but unless you're going to deny it all, then you don't have a choice."

I swallowed. "I'll get with Xavier," I said, my voice tight. "I'll get on it. Thanks, Eason."

"Hang in there, Grace," he said, his voice warm. "It'll be alright."

We ended the call, and I stared at the phone, a new wave of determination washing over me.

I marched towards my office. I heard the other elevator ding.

"Grace!" Amira called. I heard her and Xavier following me to my office. Xavier settled into a seat with his laptop, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"We need a plausible explanation," I said.

"I'm scanning the comments."

"Amira?"

She shook her head. "There's a lot circulating... Where's Charles?"

I shook my head. "He'll.... be back."

"He's here."

My eyes bulged and I rounded the desk to see the live feed of Charles, changed into a different suit, his beard back in place, and his crown. Gregory and the Enforcers helped clear a path. They kept yelling questions of him.

"Why would he go through the front?" I asked, freaking out.

"Because he knows," Xavier said. "There's no denying it."

"What?" I asked, staring at him.

Xavier shook his head. "The media is having a field day. It's a feeding frenzy out there, and no one, given your history, is going to believe that you aren't seeing another lycan."

"Albeit, a better lycan," Amira said.

"There has to be a way out of this!"

Frustration gnawed at me, a relentless tide threatening to pull me under. My breaths grew shallow, my vision starting to blur at the edges. Just as I felt a panic attack rising, the door to my office swung open. Charles strode in, his jaw set in a determined line.

With a curt nod towards Xavier, he said, "Give us a moment, please."

Xavier and Amira glanced at each other before gathering their things and leaving, closing the door softly behind her. The silence that descended was thick with tension. Charles walked towards me, his brow creased with concern.

"Hey, easy," he murmured, placing a hand on my shoulder. "It's going to be alright."

I let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. "I don't know, Charles. This feels… this feels hopeless."

He cupped my face in his hands, his gaze searching mine. "It's not hopeless, Grace. This is all... out of order, but it's not hopeless."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, intricately woven band. It shimmered in the afternoon light, the silver catching the glint of a crescent moon charm in its center. My heart leaped into my throat. It was large enough to go around my arm, but it was...

It was definitely the equivalent of a ring.

"This," he said, his voice soft, "is a courting band. In Lycan tradition, it signifies a promise, a declaration of intent."

My heart skipped a beat. "A courting band?"

He nodded.

"You... You want--"

"I told you before that I wanted to put one on your arm," he said. "This isn't how I imagined it, but at least you're less likely to freak out about the band because you're freaking out about everything else."

I wanted to laugh, but I couldn't. I stared up at him, stunned.

"We've kept it hidden for as long as we could, Grace. But I think there's no better time to show you... tell you... make sure you understand."

I swallowed. "Understand."

He grazed his lips with mine. "You're mine."

My gut clenched.

"Just as much as I am yours." I stared into his eyes, lost at the depth of them and the deep, richness of his voice. "Until the end."

A blush crept up my cheeks. I couldn't breathe. I didn't have words. He stroked my cheek.

"If you want one," he continued, his voice husky, "we can have a werewolf wedding."

"Why not a lycan one?"

"Oaths," he said. "Ones you can't swear."

"What about you?"

"A commitment is a commitment," he said.

The image that flashed in my mind was breathtaking – a ceremony bathed in moonlight, surrounded by our family, maybe on the lake. A tear escaped my eye, tracing a warm path down my cheek.

"Charles," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. "What do you say, Grace Wolfe?"