Chapter Thirty-One
Adriel
The air in the boutique is warm and fragrant, carrying a subtle mix of cedarwood and freshly pressed fabric. The murmur of conversation blends with the faint hum of classical music playing from hidden speakers, creating a luxurious yet unassuming ambiance. I stand on a small platform near the center of the room, arms slightly outstretched as the tailor works, his hands deftly adjusting the measuring tape across my chest. The soft snip of scissors and the delicate scratch of chalk against fabric punctuate the quiet, almost meditative rhythm of the boutique.
Across the room, Silas stands near a rack of wedding suits, his expression pensive as he slides hangers across the metal rod with slow deliberation. His broad shoulders are slightly hunched, his brow furrowed in a way that suggests both concentration and mild frustration.
“What do you think of this one?” he asks, his voice cutting through the stillness. He holds up a sleek black tuxedo with silver embroidery tracing along the lapels in an elegant, understated pattern. The light catches on the embroidery, making it gleam softly.
I glance over and smirk, lowering my arms as the tailor steps away momentarily. “Finally,” I say with mock gravitas, crossing my arms, “my impeccable fashion sense is being appreciated.”
Silas snorts, shaking his head as he drapes the tuxedo over his forearm. “Impeccable? Let’s not get carried away. I’d call it adequate.”
Despite the jab, there’s a faint smile tugging at his lips, and for a brief moment, the mild frustration that was weighing on his shoulders seems to lift. It’s a sight that makes my spirits lift, seeing Silas here being nervous about picking a suit for a wedding. It’s an almost adorable moment.
The moment shatters when something—or rather, someone—outside the window catches my eye. A sharp jolt of recognition lances through me, and my good mood vanishes like mist under a hot sun.
Karen. Her distinctive blonde hair, styled to perfection, gleams under the muted light of the overcast afternoon. She strides past the boutique with her usual air of entitlement, her tailored coat flaring slightly behind her.
“Silas,” I mutter, nudging him with my elbow. “Isn’t that Karen?”
He follows my gaze, and his entire demeanor changes. His shoulders stiffen, his jaw tightens, and the faint smile he’d been wearing disappears entirely. “That’s her,” he confirms, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous tone. His hand clenches around the hanger he’s still holding, the metal creaking slightly under the pressure.
“The Omega who tried to humiliate Danae at the gala,” he continues, his voice sharp and clipped.
His anger is palpable, but it’s tempered by satisfaction as he adds, “It felt good putting her in her place that night. She had no right to go after Danae like that.”
My lips curl into a grin that’s equal parts mischief and challenge. “I don’t know if I trust you to truly handle someone like her, brother. Maybe I should go say hello.”
Silas raises an eyebrow, his mouth curving into a wary smile. “Adriel,” he says, his tone both amused and exasperated, “you know as well as I do that if you do anything, Mom and Dad will have your head.”
I shrug, already stepping off the platform. “When has that ever stopped me?”
He laughs softly, shaking his head as I head toward the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Actually, scratch that—don’t do anything I would do, either.”
The cold air bites at my skin the moment I step outside, sharp and bracing against the warmth of the boutique. I spot Karen turning a corner, her heels clicking audibly against the pavement, even from a distance. She enters a jewelry store, and I follow, keeping a leisurely pace as if I’m just another customer.
The store is small but lavish, with glittering display cases lining the walls and the scent of polished wood and expensive cologne hanging in the air. Karen is at the counter, leaning slightly as she examines a tray of diamond necklaces. She doesn’t notice me at first, but the moment I step closer, her eyes land on me.
Her expression completely changes in an instant, the haughty tilt of her chin giving way to a wide, almost predatory smile. “Adriel? Adriel Jorg?” she exclaims, her voice pitched higher than usual, dripping with a forced sweetness.
She strides toward me, her hips swaying in exaggerated arcs, her designer heels clicking softly against the marble floor. Her smile is wide, ear to ear, her teeth impossibly white, and I can tell she thinks she’s radiating charm. To me, it’s nothing but a mask—thin, brittle, and entirely unconvincing.
“It’s so good to see you!” she continues, her voice lilting. “You’re almost never in town. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about us little people.”
Before I can respond, she places a hand on my chest, her manicured nails lightly tapping against the fabric of my shirt. The gesture is presumptuous and entirely unwelcome, and a faint wave of disgust ripples through me.
“I hope,” she adds, lowering her voice and biting her lip in what she likely thinks is a seductive manner, “now that you’re here, we can get to know each other better.”
Is she... flirting with me?
The thought is so absurd, so pathetically laughable, that I can’t help the faint smirk that creeps onto my face. Tilting my head slightly, I allow a beat of silence to stretch between us before replying. “Oh, I already know plenty about you, Karen,” I say, my voice as smooth as the silk lining the jewelry cases around us.
For a split second, her smile falters, but she recovers quickly, her face snapping back into that practiced poise she wears. Her eyes gleam, though whether it’s confidence or desperation shining there, I can’t quite tell. “Hopefully, good things,” she says, leaning closer. Her perfume wrapping around me like a snake.
“Oh, the very best things,” I reply, letting the humor of the moment slip into my tone. It’s almost funny how close she is to me now—almost because the proximity is making my skin itch. She’s invading my space as if she thinks this is her moment to shine. “In fact,” I continue, my lips curling into a smirk, “you’ve been quite the talk of the town lately. I heard you stirred up a little drama at the gala recently.”
Her reaction is immediate. She steps back like I’ve slapped her, her face a strange mix of flushed anger and fleeting embarrassment. But Karen, being Karen, gathers herself quickly. She straightens her posture, chin tilting up just a fraction, and inhales deeply as if preparing for battle. “What your brother did was rude and unacceptable,” she snaps. Her tone dripping with an arrogance so sharp I could cut myself on it.
The sight of her like this humors me, and I feel a bubble of laughter rising up inside me, threatening to spill over. I bite it back, just barely, because the situation is absurd enough without me breaking into hysterics. “Well,” I say, stepping back casually, “we could argue that what you did was rude and unacceptable.”
She scoffs, the sound sharp and dismissive. “Of course, you’d defend your brother.”
Now it’s my turn to step closer, closing the distance she just put between us. My voice drops, laced with a disgust I don’t bother to hide. “Not just my brother,” I say, the words deliberate, heavy with meaning. “My woman, too.”
Her eyes widen at that, the realization dawning on her slowly, and then her face twists into something ugly—something furious. “The Jorg boys must have lost their minds,” she spits, her voice shaking with disbelief. “Both of you, choosing that feeble thing over an Omega like me?”
The words hit like nails on a chalkboard, grating, infuriating. “Her name is Danae,” I say, my voice steady and cold. “And she’s not feeble.”
Karen’s eyes flicker, but I don’t let her interrupt. “She’s strong,” I continue, my words coming faster now, sharper. “Strong enough to leave her home, her city, and come here to face our traditions, our rituals, without so much as flinching. And she passed, Karen. She passed without a hitch. You? You couldn’t last five minutes without breaking a nail or crying for attention. And let’s not even get started on how she’s had to deal with desperate, delusional trolls like you.”
She gasps, the sound sharp and indignant, but I’m not finished.
“She’s a woman with actual character, which is more than I can say for you. You’ve been slobbering over every high-profile Alpha you can get close to, throwing yourself at them, only to be rejected again and again. It’s pathetic, Karen. You’re pathetic.”
“How dare you?!” she shrieks, her voice loud enough to make heads turn. Around us, the jewelry store falls into an awkward silence, the other shoppers and attendants frozen, unsure where to look.
I lean in, my voice dropping low. “Danae is more of a woman than you’ll ever be,” I say, each word measured. “That’s why she has my heart. That’s why she has my brother’s heart. And if you try pulling the same stunt you did at the gala ever again? What Silas did will feel like a flea bite compared to what I’ll do.”
Her eyes widen, glassy with unshed tears, and for a moment, I think she might actually break. But I don’t wait to see. I hold her gaze for just a beat longer, making sure my words sink in, then smirk as I turn on my heel and walk out of the shop. Let her stew in it. Let her think about it. Because this? This is the last time I’m wasting my breath on Karen.
When I return to the boutique, Silas is leaning against the counter, a knowing look on his face. “Mother and Father are going to kill you,” he remarks, his tone light but tinged with amusement.
I shrug, grinning as I adjust my cuffs. “Let them try.”
The drive back to the estate is filled with easy banter, Silas shaking his head and laughing as I recount Karen’s pitiful display. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, his tone exasperated but fond.
“Of course I am,” I reply smoothly. “Someone has to keep things interesting.”
As we pull into the driveway of the estate, the moment of levity ends abruptly. The second I step out of the car, I hear my mother’s voice, sharp and accusing. “Adriel Jorg!”
I turn to see her marching toward me, her face a mask of fury, with my father trailing close behind. I plaster on my most charming smile. “Dearest mother,” I say, spreading my arms wide. “What seems to be the matter?”
“Don’t play coy with me!” she snaps, stopping a few feet away. “We just received a call from the Kross family demanding an apology. What did you say to that girl?”
“Oh, nothing much,” I reply, my tone breezy. “Just a few hard truths.”
My father steps forward, his expression stern. “Adriel, you know that behavior is unacceptable. You need to send an apology immediately.”
I fold my arms, my jaw tightening. “With all due respect, Father, I was only defending Danae. Just like Silas did.”
“Silas has the right to defend her,” he counters. “She’s his mate. Part of his family. You, on the other hand…”
“I intend to be part of their family unit,” I cut in, my voice steady and unyielding.
My parents exchange a look, momentarily caught off guard. My mother’s voice softens. “You…you’re going to get married?”
I nod, a genuine smile tugging at my lips. “If she’ll have me, yes.”
Mother and Father exchange a glance, their faces a blend of confusion and cautious curiosity. It’s almost amusing, the way their emotions sit so plainly between them—relief and joy that I’m settling down, tangled with a flicker of parental disapproval over my recent behavior. They’re pleased, but they’re not ready to let me off the hook for what I said to Karen.
I fold my arms loosely, letting my shoulders relax. I already know my stance, and it’s solid. “If I’m part of a family unit with Danae,” I start, my tone calm, “that makes her my family. And I don’t have to apologize for defending a member of my family, right, Father?”
Father’s gaze meets mine, his brows drawn tight as he considers my words. He’s not quick to respond, but I can see the gears turning behind his measured expression. “Yes,” he says finally, drawing the word out. “Technically.”
“Then I won’t be apologizing to Karen,” I say, a small, almost wholesome smile playing on my lips.
Mother exhales sharply, whether in frustration or disbelief. I can’t quite tell. Father's eyes narrow just enough to make me wonder if he’s searching for an argument. But there isn’t one—not one that would hold water, anyway.
The air feels still for a moment, as though they’re both waiting for me to add something. But I stay quiet.
Father is the first to break the silence. “You should not have harassed that young lady, Adriel.” His voice carries the sternness of a reprimand, but there’s a noticeable softness now.
“I didn’t harass her, Father,” I reply, keeping my voice measured. “I merely used a few words.”
Mother exhales, a slight shake of her head as she finds her voice again. “You know these things cause noise, Adriel. You should have just let her be.”
I nod slowly, understanding what she means, but there’s no regret in my mind. I know full well that things like this stir the pot, bring attention. But I’d happily light a thousand fires if it meant standing up for Danae.
Father’s expression softens further, the lines of concern on his face easing as he steps closer to me. “So, Adriel…” His voice drops to something more intimate, less about chastising and more about understanding. “You’re serious about your intentions to form a family unit with her? With your brother?”
I meet his gaze, unwavering, because the answer is as clear as the air I’m breathing. “I am, Father.”
His face transforms, a smile spreading across it—warm, proud. He rests a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm.
Mother steps closer now, her earlier reservation replaced with something brighter, more radiant. “And Joseph?” she asks, her eyes lighting up. “He’ll be part of this unit as well?”
I can’t help but smile at her excitement. “He will, Mother.”
She presses a hand to her chest, her eyes glistening with emotion. “You three boys united like this…” Her voice wavers slightly, but she catches it, her smile growing wider. “It’s beautiful.”
Her words hang in the air. It’s not just approval—it’s a blessing. And as I stand there, looking at both of them, I realize this moment marks something more. A beginning.
Later that evening, I find myself standing outside Danae’s room. I knock softly before stepping inside. She’s sitting on her bed, her posture relaxed, but her eyes are distant. She looks up as I enter, offering me a small, welcoming smile.
I walk over, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I heard about what happened at the gala,” I say gently. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
She shakes her head, her smile turning wistful. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t feel bad about it.”
Her words catch me off guard, and I raise an eyebrow. She continues, her voice thoughtful. “Back in my city, I never got treated like that. But that’s because I was always with Leila Kaye.”
The name jolts something in my memory. I know who that is. Leila Kaye…the Omega with pheromones so powerful she was once considered unparalleled, until the emergence of the White Wolf.
Danae goes on, her tone casual but tinged with sadness. “No one messed with me because they knew Leila would turn them into drooling messes if they even looked at me the wrong way. This was the first time someone tried to bully me. But it’s okay. I’m used to people not liking me.”
Her words hit me like a blow to the chest. I reach out, taking her hand in mine. “Danae,” I say, my voice low but firm. “You have us now. Me, Silas, Joseph. We’ll protect you. I promise, no one will ever harm you again.”
She meets my gaze, her face shining with gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispers.
In that moment, I know with unwavering certainty that my words are more than just a promise. They’re a vow. I would do anything to keep her safe. Anything.