Chapter 9 #3
I glance down at myself. My shirt. His scent is all over it. I can smell the cedar and smoke and him, clinging to the fabric.
“Just a second,” I call out, my voice surprisingly steady.
I rush to my bedroom, yank off my clothes, and throw on a clean dress. Splash cold water on my face in the bathroom. Practice a smile in the mirror. It looks wrong. Feels wrong. But it’ll have to do.
When I return and open the door, I force the smile onto my face.
“Violet!” The taller of the two women beams at me.
She’s striking, with dark, curly hair that falls past her shoulders, warm, brown eyes, and a smile that lights up her entire face.
“I hope we’re not too early. Sarah mentioned the party starts at seven, but we thought we’d come now in case you needed help setting up. ”
I blink at her, my brain still fuzzy, still trying to catch up to the present moment.
The shorter woman beside her laughs, the sound warm and genuine.
She’s slender, with straight, brown hair and eyes that seem to see right through me.
“I’m Anne,” she says, holding up a bottle of wine.
“And this is Sienna. We work in your division, though we haven’t really had a chance to talk much. ”
“I know who you are.”
I don’t mean for the words to sound so robotic, but I do know them. Sienna Carter, youngest chief strategic advisor in Moonvale Pack history. Anne Donaldson, who works in administration. I’ve seen them around the office, always together, always laughing like they’re sharing some secret joke.
I’ve envied them from a distance. The easy friendship. The way they belong.
“Can we come in?” Sienna’s smile doesn’t waver, but I see concern flicker in her eyes. “You look a little pale. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.” The lie tastes like ash, but I step back, pulling the door open wider. “Come on in.”
They step inside and both freeze, taking in the space.
“Holy shit,” Anne breathes. “This place is gorgeous.”
“And huge!” Sienna adds, her strategic mind probably already cataloging every detail. “The penthouse? How did you manage to snag this?”
My stomach clenches. “It was…available.”
“Well, you have excellent taste.” Sienna moves into the kitchen and sets down the bag she’s carrying. “We brought snacks. Nothing fancy, just chips and dip and some cheese. Anne insisted on bringing wine even though I told her most people prefer beer at these things.”
“Wine is classy,” Anne protests, setting the bottle on the counter. “Besides, Violet seems like a wine person.” Anne pauses as she pulls items from her bag. Then she glances around, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Is Darius already here? I recognize his scent.”
Heat floods my face. Can they smell what we did? Can they tell?
“He, uh, dropped off his housewarming gift just now,” I say, forcing my voice to be steady. “Had to leave right away. Pack business with his father.”
I watch their faces carefully. Neither reacts with suspicion. They can’t tell. Thank God, they can’t tell.
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Sienna shrugs, starting to open some of the snacks they brought. “Knowing Darius, though, he probably wouldn’t have stayed long anyway. He’s not really the social type.”
“What did he get you?” Anne asks, nodding toward the open box on the counter.
I move toward it, closing the lid with hands that have finally stopped shaking as badly as they were. “Supplies for a dog. I’m getting a puppy tomorrow.”
“You’re getting a dog?” Sienna’s eyes light up, her whole face transforming with genuine excitement. “That’s amazing! What kind?”
“Golden retriever.” I hold up the photo, and both women immediately crowd closer.
“Oh my God,” Anne breathes, pressing a hand to her chest. “She’s adorable. Look at those paws!”
“You’re so lucky,” Sienna adds, leaning in for a better look. “I’ve always wanted a dog, but my apartment doesn’t allow pets. This place is incredible. And the furniture! Where did you find everything?”
“Marks and Woodsons, mostly. And a few other places.”
“Fancy,” Anne says, uncorking the wine. She pours three glasses and slides one over to me. “Those stores are usually way out of my price range. Like, seriously expensive.”
“They had a sale,” I mumble, taking the glass gratefully.
“Lucky timing.” Sienna raises her glass, warmth radiating from her smile. “To new apartments and new puppies.”
We clink glasses, and I take a long drink.
It tastes delicious and warms my insides.
Maybe if I drink enough, I can forget the feeling of Darius’s mouth on mine.
The desperation in his kiss. The way my body came alive under his hands.
That wild, hungry thing inside me that wanted to devour him whole.
“So,” Sienna says, leaning against the counter with casual grace, “tell us about yourself. We’ve been dying to get to know you better. Where did you go to school?”
The next thirty minutes pass in a blur of conversation. They ask gentle, friendly questions about my education, my hobbies, what made me want to work in the Supernatural Affairs Division.
I answer on autopilot, forcing smiles, nodding at appropriate moments.
They don’t push when I keep my responses vague. Don’t pry when I clearly don’t want to elaborate. They just talk. Fill the silence with their own stories, their own jokes, making me feel included without demanding anything in return.
Sienna tells a story about accidentally filing a report to the wrong pack and nearly starting a diplomatic incident. Anne describes her terrible luck with dating apps. They bicker good-naturedly about whether wine or beer is superior at parties.
It’s nice. Different from what I expected.
“You know,” Sienna says, refilling her wine glass, her expression turning thoughtful, “I’m really glad you’re here. The division needed some fresh energy. And you’re brilliant at what you do.”
I blink at her. “What?”
“You haven’t noticed?” Anne laughs, gesturing with her wine glass. “You solved that Silverwood dispute in like, half the time it would’ve taken anyone else. And the way you caught that clause error in Ryker’s presentation? Sarah’s still talking about it. That was impressive.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “Oh, I—I read a lot of the old treaties when I was away. For fun.”
“For fun,” Sienna echoes, grinning. “See? Brilliant. Most people can barely stay awake reading those things. They’re like medieval torture devices disguised as legal documents.”
“I enjoy contracts,” I mumble. “And legal precedents. They’re like puzzles.”
“And that,” Anne says, pointing at me with her wine glass, “is exactly why you belong in this division. You’re perfect for it. You see connections other people miss.”
A warm feeling spreads through me. Not from the wine, and not the burning heat from earlier. This is gentler. Softer.
Acceptance.
They’re accepting me. Including me. Acting like I belong with them.
The doorbell rings again, and my stomach drops.
“That’s probably Sarah,” Sienna says, already moving toward the door with easy confidence. “She said she’d be here around six-thirty.”
Why is everyone early for my party?
Sienna pulls the door open, and sure enough, Sarah stands there with several others from the office—Julian and a few analysts whose names I can’t quite remember. They file in with bags and bottles, filling the apartment with chatter and laughter.
More people arrive. The space that felt so empty this morning is suddenly full of life.
I accept hugs and congratulations, force smiles and thank-yous. Everyone seems genuinely happy to be here, genuinely happy for me.
It should feel good.
It does feel good.
But underneath it all, there’s a knot of anxiety sitting heavily in my stomach.
Because part of me keeps listening for the doorbell. Keeps watching the door. Keeps wondering if he’ll come back.
My lips still burn from his kiss. Something inside me still paces restlessly, hungry and confused. And somewhere across the city, Darius is probably feeling the same way.
We crossed a line tonight. And I have no idea how to go back.