Chapter 54
They had been doing so well. Kaldrek had remembered every step and turn. He had looked the part, held his composure, and kept his mouth shut. Then Ivan had the audacity to show his face. Evelyne’s breath caught painfully in her throat. She could do nothing to hide the fear.
He was not supposed to be here. He had not been invited. She could only hope her mother noticed him before Kaldrek did something they could not recover from.
She did not know how he knew, but he did.
Kaldrek, please. Not now. This is not the time.
He did not slow. He barreled through the crowd, each step faster than the last. Evelyne followed, searching the room for someone, anyone, to intervene.
Movement caught at her side, and she turned to see Holden.
Relief flickered through her, though she was not entirely certain he would help rather than make matters worse.
“Lord Ivan!” Alaric’s voice cut cleanly through the ballroom as he stepped forward, intercepting him. He greeted Ivan as though this were a planned meeting, though both men knew it was anything but.
“Mr. Stonebridge,” Ivan replied with a shallow nod.
Kaldrek stopped before them, a low, dangerous sound rumbling in his chest. Holden stepped beside him and placed a firm hand against his back, the gesture almost convincing as friendly.
Kaldrek… please do not engage with him. The night has been going so well.
Still nothing.
Evelyne blew out a breath.
Stubborn wolf.
“I do not recall seeing your name on the guest list,” Alaric said. “I admit, I am surprised to find you here tonight. Very bold of you, Ivan.”
Lord Bavrick lifted his glass slowly, a cruel smile touching his mouth. “My plans changed,” he replied, calm as ever. “It seems I was able to attend after all.” His attention slid to Evelyne. “Once I heard my lovely Evelyne was no longer betrothed, I felt it only proper to present myself again.”
“You are well aware I would never accept you, Lord Bavrick,” Evelyne snapped. The fact that he had walked into her family’s home and spoken as though he had any claim to her made her blood burn.
Holden’s hand remained firm against Kaldrek’s shoulder—a silent warning.
Kaldrek’s gaze shifted to her. He’s the one who touched you. Not a question, but a confirmation.
Evelyne closed her eyes briefly. Then nodded.
Ivan tilted his head, feigning surprise. “No man would take a ruined woman, Evelyne.”
“She is not ruined, you bastard,” Alaric snapped.
“Any debutante who has been touched intimately by another man is considered ruined, Mr. Stonebridge,” Ivan replied coolly. “And from what I hear, you were rather eager to explore that reputation.” His gaze flicked between them, clearly baiting.
“He never touched me,” Evelyne said, her voice firm despite the tension tightening in her chest. “You are mistaken.”
“That is not what Lady Evermere claimed,” Ivan said lightly. “She was quite insistent that the night of your betrothal announcement, Mr. Stonebridge had too much to drink and revealed the truth of your… arrangement.”
He took another slow sip, eyes scanning the room as though this were nothing more than idle conversation.
“She also informed the court that your parents forced the match because you had already given yourself to him, and he felt obligated,” Ivan clicked his tongue, his voice hardening as he continued. “And if I recall correctly…” His eyes darkened slightly. “You lifted your skirts for me as well.”
“You are filth,” Evelyne said, her voice steady despite the fury rising in her chest. “A vile excuse for a man. You will never speak to me—or look at me—again. Do I make myself clear?”
Kaldrek’s barely contained anger burned through the bond. I am not going to let him live, he growled.
Alaric stepped forward before anything could escalate, forcing a humorless laugh as he leaned in just enough to keep his voice low.
“This is not a group you’d be wise to provoke,” he said smoothly.
“And I believe I made myself quite clear the last time we spoke—do not address Lady Duskwood again. If you possess even the smallest measure of intelligence in that bald, swollen head of yours, you will hold your tongue and walk away.”
Evelyne had never seen such anger in Alaric.
“And she will never be available to you, or to any man,” he went on, each word more pointed than the last. “She is to wed Lord Kaldrek.”
Ivan’s mouth curved into a faint, mocking smile. “Centaro, is it? I cannot say I have heard of such a place. Judging by the effort placed into this performance, I imagine it is not particularly prosperous.”
Kaldrek moved then, extending his hand with unsettling calm. Evelyne’s heart lurched.
What are you doing?
“Lord Kaldrek Ironwolf,” he said evenly, loud enough for those nearby to hear. “A pleasure.”
Ivan hesitated, surprise flickering across his face before twisting into something near disgust.
“Forgive me,” Kaldrek continued, his head angling slightly, “have I misunderstood your customs, or do southern lords no longer greet one another properly?”
Several nearby guests had begun to watch now.
Ivan had no choice but to extend his hand.
The moment their palms met, Kaldrek tightened his grip. Not enough to draw attention, but more than enough to cause pain.
Ivan’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
Kaldrek leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping—low enough that only Ivan and those with heightened senses could hear.
“If you so much as step into the same room as her again,” he said, each word clipped, “I will shove my fucking hand through your chest and rip your heart out.”
His grip tightened further.
“I will tear it apart piece by piece,” he continued, “and leave what remains of you in the dirt.”
Ivan sucked in a breath, but Kaldrek did not release him.
“Our friend Mr. Stonebridge is quite correct,” he said with an easy air, though his eyes were anything but. “We are not the sort of men you wish to test.” He leaned in again. “And I would strongly advise you to take that warning seriously.”
Evelyne’s gaze swept the room until it landed on her mother. Lady Celeste had gone still mid-conversation, her eyes widening just enough to betray alarm before she excused herself and began moving toward them.
Oh, thank heavens.
Kaldrek still hadn’t released Ivan’s hand. The man was beginning to dip at the knees, his composure slipping as pain took hold, while Holden stood beside them with an almost amused expression as he watched him squirm.
“In fact,” Kaldrek added, his voice low and dangerous, “you will correct the story you so carefully spread about her and Mr. Stonebridge.” He faked a smile. “And then I will decide what to do with you.”
Holden gave Kaldrek’s shoulder a light pat just as Lady Celeste approached. Kaldrek released Ivan at last, straightening his waistcoat as though nothing had occurred. Ivan snatched his hand back, flexing his fingers, his expression tightening as he struggled to regain composure.
“Enjoy your evening, Lord Baddick,” Kaldrek said.
“It’s Bavrick,” Ivan hissed.
Kaldrek smiled faintly. “Is it?”
Before Ivan could respond, Kaldrek slipped his arm around Evelyne and guided them away, steering them toward the far side of the ballroom as Lady Celeste reached Ivan. Evelyne had no doubt her mother would resolve the situation swiftly—especially if she summoned their guard, Marcel.
Evelyne’s heart was still racing. Her pulse thudded in her ears as they moved, her thoughts scrambling to catch up with what had just happened.
How many people had seen that?
She led them toward a smaller table set with desserts at the back of the room, hoping for a moment of distance. Aurelia joined them almost immediately.
“Well,” she said lightly, “I do believe Heidara and I did our very best to distract as many of the gentlemen as possible while you all handled whatever that was with Lord Ivan.”
Her tone grew kind as she reached for Evelyne’s hands.
“Are you all right? I cannot believe he was allowed inside.”
“I’m fine,” Evelyne said.
She wasn’t. Not even close.
But at least Kaldrek hadn’t killed him.
Yet.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Aurelia said, recovering quickly. “Well then—smiles all around. If you occupy yourself with desserts, you won’t be expected to speak nearly as much.”
She gave Evelyne a wink before turning and drifting back into the crowd, effortlessly reclaiming attention as she went.
She truly was the perfect distraction. So much so that Holden didn’t move. He simply stood there, watching her walk away as though the rest of the room had ceased to exist.
Evelyne snapped her fingers in front of him. “Lord Holden, are you still with us?”
Holden groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
“I need wine,” he muttered. “Now.”
***
To Evelyne’s surprise, the remainder of the evening passed without incident—aside from Callista Evermere setting her sights on Heidara.
She descended on her with relentless curiosity, picking apart every detail of her attire.
Where she sourced her fabrics in Centaro, how she had learned to dance, what pastimes she enjoyed—Callista clung to her like a parasite, all smiles edged with poison.
What frustrated her most was that none of it worked.
Heidara remained untouched by it all. She smiled, curtsied, sipped her wine, and laughed easily with any gentleman bold enough to approach.
Evelyne suspected Alaric’s constant presence gave her the most comfort…
or perhaps it was simply the knowledge that she could end any one of them in seconds if she wished.
Evelyne could not help but admire her. Heidara played the part of a noble lady flawlessly, all to help secure a future for Evelyne and Kaldrek.
She looked beautiful, truly, but Evelyne knew this was not where she belonged.
Beneath the poise, her friend was likely counting the moments until she could rip off her corset and be free of it all.
Heidara would spend the night at Alaric’s family manor, her first away from the pack, and though she appeared at ease, Evelyne suspected she and Alaric were both eager for a moment alone.
Perhaps that was all she needed to fully relax.
As the guests began to thin, Evelyne realized the evening had been a success.
Even her mother had allowed herself a few smiles when their eyes met.
Cillian had already retired, which was no surprise, since he had never cared for prolonged social gatherings.
He was likely already in his bath, preparing for bed.
Evelyne’s own feet ached from hours of standing and dancing.
The thought of removing her shoes and sinking into a bath was nearly overwhelming.
Kaldrek told her he intended to walk the estate’s perimeter before checking on his pack.
He would return in the morning, though she knew being away from them for too long unsettled him.
She barely had the energy to bid him goodnight, but she asked him to check on Oathroot as well.
She could not shake her anxiety over leaving them out there alone.
It was the only way she would find any rest.
Aurelia had slipped away earlier for fresh air, no doubt to steady herself. And Holden—poor male—had fled the moment he could. Where he had gone, Evelyne could only guess, but she knew he needed distance.
But they had done it.
For now, at least, the court would keep its curiosity to itself.
And at last, Evelyne allowed herself to breathe.