Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
TRINITY
I pause at the entrance to the reception hall, my head still throbbing despite the painkillers. A sea of unfamiliar faces fill the space—family members, college friends, and business associates of Egret, Brendin and Saren. Nearly a hundred people, and I recognize only a handful.
My family sits at a large table in the center of the room, just another planet orbiting the sun of this spectacle. Five chairs at the circular table are conspicuously empty.
Luckily, the bride and grooms are seated at a small rectangular table on an elevated platform at the end of the room, far enough away that conversation won’t be possible during dinner.
But I still hesitate under the floral archway made of imported orchids.
Matheo’s hand finds the small of my back, his fingers brushing against bare skin where my halter dress dips low. Heat radiates from that single point of contact, spreading through my body and momentarily making me forget the pain in my skull .
“You ready?” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear.
I nod, not trusting my voice. After the doctor left—encouraging fluids and rest at $500/hour—Matheo had offered to help me shower because I’d still been unsteady on my feet.
I’d declined and managed alone because I knew precisely what would happen if we ended up naked under cascading water together.
Now, with his touch sending electricity through my veins, I’m regretting my decision.
Maybe letting him into the shower would have released some of the tension crackling between us.
“Let’s get this party started then,” he murmurs, smile crooked. “We’ve got you.”
We’ve got you.
I can’t fight off the little thrill of awareness as they gather around me.
Cash and Lucas flank us on either side, with Kyren trailing slightly behind, following us into the fray.
As we navigate the sea of tables, Matheo’s fingers trace small circles against my skin. I don’t resist the urge to lean into his touch instinctively, drawing strength from his steady presence beside him.
I can do this.
We take our seats at the table. Matheo ends up on one side of me with Kyren on the other, while Lucas and Cash take the chairs two down from him.
The conversation at the table abruptly halts.
My brothers stare wide-eyed at the four men while Finn and Hans exchange glances.
Adrian reaches for his glass of wine and takes a sip to hide his expression.
All eyes eventually settle on my mother, who just watches me with narrowed eyes as if she is trying to communicate with me telepathically.
“Well, knowing what I thought I knew of Trinity,” Mom says, her voice crisp as she studies each of the men. “When I heard she said she was bringing a pack here, I assumed that meant she was bringing a litter of puppies.”
The tension breaks. Adrian’s booming laugh echoes across the table while Finn and Hans don’t hide their smiles. Even I can’t help but giggle, the sound bubbling up despite my nervousness.
“Margaret Jones-Becker,” Mom extends her hand to Matheo first. “I’d say I’ve heard so much about you, but my daughter’s personal life might as well be locked in a filing cabinet.”
Matheo takes her hand, his smile genuine. “Matheo…Grande. The pleasure is entirely mine.”
The rest of the men introduce themselves, each one as charming and affable as one would expect from men paid to be exactly that.
Cash asks Finn and Hans about their work, which leads to a dually narrated monologue full of medical jargon and gross descriptions of bodily fluids.
Lucas immediately engages my brothers in an animated discussion about video games, his hands gesturing wildly as he describes some virtual world they all seem to understand that I’ve never heard of.
“So,” Mom leans forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity, “how did you all meet our Trinity? She’s been mysteriously tight-lipped about the whole affair. Everything I know I had to get from the family group chat.”
I freeze, our hastily constructed backstory suddenly evaporating from my mind. Before I can stammer out a response, Kyren jumps in.
“It was at this little coffee shop in the city,” he says, his voice taking on a storyteller’s cadence. “Trinity was working—of course she was working—spreadsheets spread across the table, three empty cups beside her laptop. ”
I stare at him, pulse quickening. This isn’t our agreed-upon story.
“She was wearing this blue dress,” Kyren continues, his eyes meeting mine. “The color of a summer storm. And she was humming—not loudly, just under her breath. Love Story by Taylor Swift. I can practically still hear it.”
My breath catches. That was my song I had playing during our heat-breaking session—the one I’d hummed nervously even after he told me to turn off the speaker because he just wanted to hear me. He’d asked about it, and I’d told him it was my comfort song.
“I couldn’t help myself,” Kyren says, his gaze never leaving mine. “I went over and finished the chorus. She looked up, surprised, and then she smiled. That smile...” He shakes his head. “Well, I was done for.”
“He introduced us later,” Matheo smoothly interjects, his hand finding mine under the table. “Said he’d found someone special.”
“I knew she was the one when I saw her apartment for the first time. Did you know she puts sticky notes on everything?” Kyren continues, a detail he could only know from coming to my apartment for the heat-breaking session.
“Color-coded. Even labels the leftovers with expiration dates. I figure any girl who keeps her life this organized, but still makes space for all of my chaos, is worth hanging on to.”
I feel warmth spreading through me as he weaves this fabricated story with threads of truth, followed immediately by confusion.
Why in the hell is he acting like he doesn’t remember me?
“That’s my little girl.” My mother’s expression softens.
“We used to have to arrange all of her doll’s clothes by color and size at the end of the playtime or she would refuse to go to bed for the night until it was done.
Trinity has always been very persistent in getting things the way she wants them. ”
Matheo gives her a smile as he rubs gentle circles on my back. “That’s what we like most about her.”
I let the conversation move on without me, mind whirling. Between the distraction of Kyren’s motives and Matheo’s touch, I’m barely capable of keeping up with a nod or sound of agreement here and there.
But my fake pack does a great job of covering for me, answering questions or changing subjects with ease to keep my family convinced that we really are a pack.
When Cash laughingly suggests an automated scribe tool to Finn that helps with faster charting and offers to show him how to install it on his work computer, I almost believe that we’ll still be together long enough for it to happen.
Just as I start to relax, thinking we might actually pull this off, I spot Josie weaving between tables toward us. Her three fiancés trail behind her like a royal entourage, and my stomach clenches.
“Trinity!” Josie calls, waving excitedly. “Are these your alphas?”
All eyes at our table swivel to the approaching group. I feel Matheo’s hand move to my shoulder and squeeze, a subtle gesture of support.
“Yes,” I say, standing to make introductions. “Josie, everyone, these are my...” I hesitate for just a fraction of a second, “...my pack. Matheo, Cash, Lucas, and Kyren.”
Each of them stands, offering handshakes and warm smiles. I watch with growing pride as they charm my sister, their easy confidence making our charade seem effortless.
But then Egret steps forward, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “So, you’re the ones who managed to tame Trinity Jones.”
His tone makes it sound like I’m a wild animal rather than a person. I remind myself that throwing a dinner plate at his head probably won’t go over well.
“Nobody’s taming anybody,” Matheo replies smoothly. “We appreciate Trinity exactly as she is.”
Egret’s smile tightens. “Interesting. I was curious, so I checked the national pack registry this morning. Your registration only went through two days ago. Quite recent, isn’t it?”
The blood drains from my face. He checked the registry? That hadn’t even occurred to me as a possibility—or that Amara would have been smart enough to file actual paperwork for us.
“We’re still in the early days,” Matheo says, his voice calm despite the clear challenge in Egret’s words.
“But when you know, you know. And being in such a romantic environment...” He gestures to the resort around us with a knowing smile.
“Well, we wanted to make things official. The registration ensures we can share legal paternity of any children Trinity might have.”
My cheeks flush hot at the mention of children. It’s the right answer—exactly why packs register—but hearing Matheo say it so casually makes me feel queasy.
When is the right time to talk to your fake pack about the potential kids you’re not sure you want?
It doesn’t matter, I remind myself. They’re just saying whatever they need to say to get Egret off our backs.
Egret’s eyes narrow. “Children? That’s quite a commitment for a relationship that’s barely even begun.”
“When you find your match, time becomes irrelevant,” Cash adds, his tone even but firm. “We let Trinity set the pace.”
“And Trinity is worth committing to,” Lucas chimes in, his boyish face absolutely serious. “I’m sure you felt the same way about Josephine.”
Egret seems to startle as he glances back at Josie, as if just remembering that she is standing right next to him. He settles his arm around her, but the set of his mouth remains obstinate. “Josephine has always wanted to settle down. It doesn’t make sense for us to wait. Trinity, though, is?—”
Kyren says nothing, but his stance shifts subtly, placing himself slightly between me and Egret. The protective gesture probably isn’t lost on anyone at the table.
“I know we’re all eager for information, but that’s enough of the family interrogation for now,” Mom interrupts, her voice cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter.
She gives Egret a smile that brooks no argument.
“There will be plenty of time for us all to get to know each other better over the next week.”
“I just like to know more about the people sharing the most important day of my life.” Egret says smoothly as everyone retakes their seats, though I can see the frustration in his eyes. “But you’re right. Mom. The interrogation can wait.”
Mom . Uh, gross.
Josie pulls up a chair and squeezes in between me and Kyren.
“So, Trin,” Josie says, leaning in conspiratorially. “Egret’s sisters were asking me about the schedule for this week. They wanted to make sure the bridal party spa day happens before the bachelorette party. I told them you had everything planned perfectly, but they seemed a little worried. ”
Which is code for these girls don’t trust me to have it handled, and Josie is playing peacemaker by interceding before they come to me directly.
My smile stays fixed in place through teeth clenched hard enough to make my jaw ache. I’d meticulously planned every activity down to the minute, but hearing that women who don’t even know me are questioning my professional abilities makes me want to walk right over there and say something.
And now I’m annoyed with myself for not realizing sooner that being maid-of-honor is going to mean spending significant amounts of time with the type of women that I typically avoid.
Josie has never had many female friends.
So, given the number of bridesmaids I’d been told to plan for, most of them have to be friends or family of Josie’s alphas.
“Everything’s right on schedule,” I assure her, pulling out my phone to show her the detailed itinerary I’ve created.
“Cake tasting is tomorrow afternoon. We have the sunset cruise right after. The hiking excursion is on Wednesday, and I’ll need to make time for the flower market either before or after that.
We’ll have the spa day on Thursday, with the bachelorette party that evening.
Rehearsal dinner is Friday night, and you get married the next morning. ”
Josie claps her hands together. “Perfection. I already knew you were amazing at this, but it’s even better than I hoped.”
“And don’t worry about your men getting bored,” Josie adds, patting my arm.
“Egret has planned some activities for the guys, too. Deep-sea fishing, golf, that sort of thing. I’m not sure what they’re doing for the bachelor party, but it’ll be great.
Your pack and mine will have plenty of bonding time. ”
I nearly choke on a sip of wine. The thought of my fake alphas spending extended time with Egret, Brendin, and Saren makes my stomach twist into knots. One slip, one inconsistency in our hastily constructed backstory, and the entire charade will collapse.
“That all sounds so great,” I say in a strangled cough, my voice only slightly strained.
Matheo’s hand finds mine under the table again, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my palm. The simple touch grounds me, even as my mind spirals with worst-case scenarios.
How are we possibly going to maintain this pretense for an entire week? Four strangers pretending to be my devoted pack, spending hours with my ex-fiancés and my stepfathers, all of whom have well-honed bullshit detectors. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.
Yet as I feel Matheo’s steady presence beside me, see Cash’s attentive gaze, notice Lucas’s encouraging smile, and even register Kyren’s casual possessiveness, I think that maybe—just maybe—we might pull this off after all.
Though I’m not planning to place any actual money on that bet.