Chapter 19
NINETEEN
TRINITY
I’m trying not to let my traitorous feelings distract me during this damn romantic sunset cruise, but it’s getting harder by the minute.
The boat cuts through crystal-blue waters as the sun dips toward the horizon, painting everything in shades of gold and coral.
Under different circumstances, this would be the perfect setting for an outing with my dream pack.
Instead, I’m trapped in my own personal hell.
Kyren’s arm drapes across the back of my chair, his fingers occasionally brushing my shoulder.
Matheo sits on my other side, close enough that his thigh presses against mine.
Cash and Lucas flank us, creating a protective barrier that feels both comforting and suffocating.
They’re playing their parts perfectly—attentive, affectionate, completely devoted.
Too perfectly.
Every touch, every lingering glance, every casual endearment feels genuine enough to make my chest ache. But I keep reminding myself this is what I’m paying them for. Professional actors in my elaborate charade .
The cake tasting earlier was a nightmare.
Isabelle and Amelia peppered me with questions while we sampled enough cake to kill a lesser woman, including twelve different flavors of floral-infused chocolate that I could barely tell apart.
How did you meet? Where was your first date?
When did you know they were the ones? Each question required quick thinking and careful answers that wouldn’t contradict whatever story the men might tell later.
Now, on this boat with the entire wedding party, those same watchful eyes track our every move. Isabelle stands near the bar, pretending to admire the sunset while obviously observing us. Amelia hovers by the railing, angling for a better view of our interactions.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Matheo murmurs against my ear, his breath warm on my skin.
“Can’t help it,” I whisper back. “They’re watching us like hawks.”
“Let them watch.” His hand finds mine, fingers interlacing with practiced ease. To anyone observing, we look like a couple sharing an intimate moment. Only I feel the slight tremor in my hand that betrays my nerves.
Across the deck, Egret holds court with wedding guests that must also be business associates, but his gaze keeps drifting our way.
Brendin and Saren flank him like bookends, their expressions unreadable.
They’ve been watching us all night, analyzing every interaction, searching for cracks in our facade.
Lucas holds up a glass of champagne at the periphery of my vision. “Thought you might need this.”
I accept it gratefully, taking a larger sip than is probably wise. The bubbles tickle my throat, providing a momentary distraction from the weight of all these eyes on us .
“Having fun?” Cash asks, though his tone suggests he knows the answer.
“Loads,” I mutter into my glass.
Kyren’s fingers trail along my shoulder, and I suppress a shiver.
That kiss earlier still burns on my lips.
The way he laid claim to me in front of everyone, possessive and passionate and absolutely convincing.
Now he acts like it never happened, maintaining just enough distance to drive me insane while staying close enough to maintain our cover.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” The captain’s voice booms over the speaker system. “We’re approaching the reef. Perfect spot to watch the sun set behind the mountains. Please move to the front of the deck for the best views.”
People shift and scatter, couples pairing off to find romantic vantage points. I rise from my chair, desperate for air and space, when I spot Josie making her way through the crowd toward me.
Her face glows with happiness, cheeks pink from what I assume is a combination of champagne and excitement. She looks so beautiful, so radiant, so genuinely in love. The guilt hits me like a physical blow.
“Trinity!” She throws her arms around me, nearly spilling my drink. “Isn’t this perfect? The sunset, the ocean, everyone together?”
“It’s beautiful,” I agree, returning her embrace.
She pulls back, hands still on my arms, eyes bright with joy. “I love your men, Trin. They’re amazing. The way they look at you...” She sighs dreamily. “You can tell they absolutely adore you.”
The words twist in my stomach like a knife. They’re good actors, that’s all. They’re performing exactly what I hired them to do, and apparently, they’re worth every penny .
“Thanks, pussycat,” I manage, her childhood nickname thick on my tongue.
“I’m just so happy we both found our perfect matches,” she continues, squeezing my hands. “After everything you’ve been through, you deserve this kind of love.”
The guilt threatens to choke me. Here’s my baby sister, glowing with happiness about my supposed relationship while her own fiancés—my ex-fiancés—pretend they’ve never met me. The layers of deception make my head spin.
“I need another drink,” I blurt out, pulling away. “Want anything?”
Josie’s brow furrows slightly. “Are you okay? You’ve seemed a little off all day.”
“Just overwhelmed with wedding stuff,” I assure her. “Let me grab us some drinks so we can watch the sunset properly.”
“I’ll come with you!”
“No!” The word comes out sharper than intended. I soften my tone. “I mean, stay here and enjoy the view. I’ll be right back.”
Before she can protest, I escape toward the bar at the back of the boat, weaving through clusters of guests moving in the opposite direction. My chest feels tight, breath coming in short bursts. I need air. I need space. I need?—
“Trinity.”
I stop short as Brendin materializes in my path, blocking my route to the bar. His expression is neutral, but something off-putting lurks beneath the surface.
“Brendin,” I acknowledge, trying to step around him.
He shifts, maintaining the blockade. “Interesting pack you’ve assembled.”
“I could say the same about yours.”
His lips quirk in what might generously be called a smile. “And they’re taking things slow. That’s good, considering you weren’t even at a point to tell your own sister about it before the wedding.”
I stiffen at his words. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He leans against a nearby table, blocking my path more effectively.
“Just that you smell like heat suppressants strong enough to mask a chemical spill. And there’s not even a trace of your alphas’ scents on you.
” His eyes narrow. “For a pack that’s supposedly so devoted, you clearly haven’t gotten physical yet. ”
Heat floods my cheeks, but I force myself to maintain eye contact. There’s no reply that won’t sound like a lady protesting too much. “Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re building our relationship on more than just biology.”
“How modern,” he drawls, the sarcasm thick enough to cut. “Though I don’t remember that being the way you did things in college.”
The memory of how desperately I’d wanted their approval, their touch, makes my stomach turn. “People change.”
“Do they?” He steps closer, and I catch his scent—cedar and smoke, still familiar after all these years but enough to make my nose itch with the need to sneeze it away. “Or do they just get better at pretending?”
“Back off, Brendin.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. “Whatever game you think you’re playing?—”
“The only one playing games here is you.” His voice drops lower. “We all know there’s something off about this sudden pack of yours. Either you’re lying or they’re playing you.”
“Why do you care so much?” I fire back, my patience finally snapping. “What possible difference does it make to you whether or not I have a pack? You’re marrying my sister in a few days.”
Brendin’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, something raw flickers across his face. His mouth opens, lips parting as if he’s about to answer, to finally say whatever’s been burning behind those calculating eyes.
“Trinity, there you are.” Josie’s bright voice cuts through the tension like a knife. She appears at my elbow, pressing a glass into my hand. “I got your favorite!”
I take a grateful sip, expecting the familiar burn of whiskey and bitters from an old-fashioned. Instead, sickeningly sweet apple juice floods my mouth. I barely manage not to spit it back into the glass, coughing slightly as I force myself to swallow.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Josie’s face flushes crimson as she realizes her mistake. “That’s mine. Here—” She switches our glasses, taking the apple juice back. “Good thing I hadn’t tasted mine yet.”
“Apple juice?” I raise an eyebrow, studying my sister’s embarrassed face. “Since when do you drink apple juice at a party? Especially when there’s champagne flowing like water?”
“I’m just taking it easy on the alcohol,” she says quickly, not quite meeting my eyes. “Don’t want to be all puffy and bloated for the wedding photos. You know how I get when I drink too much—my face swells up like a balloon.”
Brendin’s expression shifts, his earlier intensity replaced by something softer as he looks at Josie. His hand moves to her lower back, a gesture that seems both protective and possessive.
“Let’s go watch the sunset,” he says, leading her away. “Trinity has her pack to get back to.”
The concern in Brendin’s eyes seems genuine as he guides Josie toward the dance floor, one hand protective on her lower back. Despite everything I know about him—his controlling nature, his need to dominate—right now he looks like an alpha worried about his omega.
It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense.
Why do Egret, Brendin, and Saren care so damn much about whether my pack is real?
They have Josie. They won. They got the perfect traditional omega they always wanted.
So why the constant interrogation? Why the barely veiled hostility?
Why do they look like they swallowed something sour whenever one of my men touches me?
They act like jealous exes, but they’re the ones who walked away. They’re the ones getting married in a few days.
My head throbs with questions that have no good answers.
Maybe they just can’t stand seeing me happy.
Maybe their egos can’t handle that I moved on instead of pining after them forever.
Or maybe—and this thought makes my skin crawl—maybe they still want to prove they made the right choice by leaving me.
Whatever their game is, I’m exhausted from playing it.
“Screw this,” I mutter, draining my whiskey in one burning gulp.
The alcohol hits my empty stomach like a fist, but I welcome the warmth spreading through my chest. Tonight, I’m not going to obsess over my exes’ motivations. I’m not going to analyze every look, every word, every calculated move.
Tonight, I’m going to have fun. Even if it kills me.