Chapter 23 #2
I bury the thought before it can take root, drowning it under the thin layer of optimism I’ve been clinging to all day.
My path leads me to stand before the stage, the centerpiece of this spectacle.
It’s meant for speeches, for blessings, for people to stand under the rented lights and speak of this shit show like it’s something worth praising.
I’d sooner have my eyes scooped out with a melon baller than listen to anyone toast to a happy and fruitful union between me and Talis McNamara.
That I once convinced myself I could grit my teeth and survive a lifetime bound to her now feels like its own special brand of delusion.
The air inside the lodge is thick with too many unfamiliar scents.
They coat the back of my throat when I breathe in, heavy and invasive.
My gaze flicks through the room, past the bodies crowding in clusters, over the forced laughter that scrapes against my patience.
Attention catching on the McNamara wolves, I track the way they meld with my own.
Some faces I recognize from the group Cathal sent to guard my northern border months ago.
Their presence was something I tolerated out of necessity, out of desperation, to keep my omegas safe.
Some of my own men stand with them, too relaxed, too familiar.
Darran’s among them, the same bastard who thought questioning me during that first meeting with the Craddock she-wolves and Amara’s coven was a wise decision.
He’s flanked by two other enforcers, all three of them trained by Mercer and who remain close with the team captain to this day.
I’ve been keeping a mental ledger, and their names have been on it for a while.
Seeing them this at ease with Cathal’s men doesn’t surprise me.
It’s confirmation for what I’d already started to suspect.
The same goes for a handful of my council members—the ones my father appointed, the ones who treat opposing me and my leadership like it’s sport. They stand there now, speaking with easy familiarity to members of McNamara Pack’s council.
I became Alpha before anyone was ready for it—before I was ready—and it began with a baptism in blood.
I didn’t take this title to make waves or burn down what came before.
As it was, the change in leadership itself was already too much of an upheaval, I didn’t want to add more turbulence by coming in too hard, too fast. But that was also around the time that our omegas began disappearing.
Hitting the ground running like I did, I never had the chance to ease into the role.
I’ve been handling damage control ever since.
And in that scramble, I’ve tolerated far more than I should have.
That ends today.
Oswin, the eldest of my council, stands off to the side with a plate full of pastries balanced in one hand, disapproval etched deep into the lines of his weathered face.
His guidance and judgment is one of the few I value and trust. His cloudy eyes squint in the direction of a gaggle of she-wolves near the dessert table.
They’re all high-pitched laughter and polished smiles, the kind bred for appearances only.
The sound like songbirds choking on their own poisonous honey.
Friends of Talis, no doubt.
And right on cue, as if the thought itself drags her forward, Talis slips from the crowd.
Her perfume reaches me before she does. Sweet, expensive, and wrong.
It’s always reminded me of a counterfeit omega scent, something crafted to imitate what nature denied her.
I want to step away, put space between us before that cloying fragrance starts to cling, but I hold my ground, not wanting to draw more attention our way.
Jaw flexing, I spare her nothing more than a flat, cursory sideways glance.
She lifts her champagne flute and takes a delicate sip, her polished smile never faltering. “I cried for three days straight when I presented as a beta,” she says, like it’s nothing more than a casual conversation starter.
It’s such an odd thing to hear her admit that it catches me off guard. Without meaning to, I turn my head fully toward her, but she’s still watching the attendees.
She doesn’t wait for me to respond before continuing.
“My whole life, my father told me that I’d be your mate one day.
That I’d be your Luna. He’d bring me with him when he visited your dad, said it was important you grew used to me.
That you’d eventually grow to care.” A quiet laugh slips out of her, soft and sharp all at once.
“Didn’t work, though, did it? You never looked at me.
Not really. Even when our fathers forced us to spend time together, you acted like it was a punishment.
But when she was around…” Her words fade as her gaze cuts toward me.
“You looked at her like she was a star torn from the sky and brought to life just for you. Or something equally nauseating.”
The memories of those weeks when I was forced to endure Talis’s company come easily.
Long summer afternoons that seemed to stretch forever, her constant boredom bleeding into everything I tried to share with her.
But when I dig deeper, I hit something solid.
A barrier, faint but deliberate, holding back the truth behind the memory.
I press against it, testing its strength, and feel it loosen, like a knot slipping free.
It unravels the same way it did when Noa told me of Thalassa’s manipulation and made me remember our day at the creek when we played hooky as pups.
The rest comes rushing in. Noa had been there for much of those visits, too. While Talis pouted, always looking sullen and unimpressed, Noa was light. Her laughter came easy, her smile unguarded. It was a time when I didn’t have to fight to earn either like I do now.
Even back then, when the difference in our ages made her untouchable, I was drawn to her.
Talis mocked the comparison, but she was right. Noa has always been a piece of starlight. My North Star, like Edie once called her.
Talis takes another slow drink, her throat working around the swallow before she speaks again.
“When I presented at eighteen, I thought my future was gone. No Alpha wants a beta for a Luna. We can’t give them what they need—alpha heirs to keep the bloodline going.
I knew it, but my father made sure I never forgot it.
He told me exactly how much I’d disappointed him.
” She pauses just long enough to glance up at me through the fake lashes she wears for today’s festivities like pretty armor.
There’s a flicker of desire in her eyes, but I know better.
It isn’t me she wants. It’s the position she was raised to believe she deserved.
“But then something almost poetic happened. Your pack’s healer ran off with her daughter and vanished into the night like a dirty thief.
And I started to think maybe fate had decided to give me another chance. ”
The hope in her voice feels poisonous. It thickens the air between us until breathing tastes bitter.
I fight the instinct to flash my teeth. Noa’s absence was never an invitation.
It was a gaping wound, not a door for Talis, or anyone else, to walk through.
Because even stripped of memory, some part of me always knew who I belonged to.
On a soul-deep level, I remembered and remained loyal to my mate.
“I waited almost eight years,” she says. “And then everything fell into place. Your alliance with my father. You rejecting that girl. Today’s celebration. It feels like the Goddess has finally rewarded me for my patience. For my faith in her plan for me.”
I can’t decide if she’s delusional or just willfully blind. Either way, her words make something violent crawl beneath my skin, a reaction I swore I would never let loose on a female.
“Is that what you think this is?” I ask, my words come out dark, barely more than a contained snarl. “Destiny?”
She meets my gaze head-on, brown eyes illuminated by a breed of conviction that makes my blood boil. “After everything that’s happened to bring us here, what else would you call it?”
“Opportunistic manipulation.” The words leave me without thought or hesitation.
It’s the truth, one I should have seen a long time ago.
First it was both my father and Cathal, scheming to tie me to Talis under the guise of pack unity.
Then it was only Cathal, dangling the safety of my pack’s omegas in front of me like bait on a lure.
His offer of protection had felt impossible to refuse at the time.
It was when I was still learning what kind of Alpha I wanted to be. What kind of Alpha I could be.
But being Cathal’s lapdog, and his daughter’s plaything, was never the legacy I wanted to forge for myself.
For the first time, the facade falters. The corners of her mouth twitch before she masks it again. Whatever venom sits on her painted lips dies when the double doors to the lodge slam open. Cold air sweeps through the space and it carries a scent that is a soothing balm to my frayed soul.
Brown sugar and spiced fig.
Noa.
She’s here.