I smiled coldly, with a sharp, planned stretch of my lips that didn't reach my eyes. "Do you really want to know the truth, Hayley?" I asked, and my voice curled like smoke. "Okay. Elliot was the wolf my mom saved that night.
Her pupils got smaller, like prey caught in headlights, and her eyes got bigger. I saw the color leave her face as she realized what was going on. The smell of her terror hit me before her face did—bitter, biting, and gratifying.
"No," she said softly. "No, that's— That's not possible..."
I moved closer, and the feeling of power rolled off me like a second skin. My wolf moved around under the surface, happy with the change in power.
I answered in a calm voice, "Oh, it's very possible." "Then Elliot owes his life to my family if that's true. So, just maybe, I've already done enough to deserve to remain by his side without doing anything.
She lurched back, her fingers twitching at her sides as her terror grew. "Anastasia, I—I didn't mean to do what I did back then," she mumbled. "Please... I'm sorry. "Can't you forgive me?"
I raised an eyebrow and waved my hand, sending the extra water on my fingers flying in her direction. "Forgive you?" My laugh was nasty and dry. "You're hoping."
Even though she tried to block them, some of the drips hit her cheek. She flinched and her lips trembled, but I was already turning away.
As I left the bathroom, I could feel her gaze on my back. Her smell stayed with her—anger, despair, and bitterness all rotting under her skin. I didn't need to look to know she was angry. I knew Hayley too well. And I knew that she was already promising in her mind to bring me down. Elliot is my friend. He will never be yours. I could almost hear her thoughts scream.
Wolves don't listen to whimpers, so she's out of luck.
At the banquet table, I ran my fingers through my hair and tucked a piece behind my ear while I breathed deeply. As soon as I looked up, I saw that Elliot was already looking at me. The lighting between us flickered like firelight in a den. His eyes caught the brightness, which was dark and bottomless like obsidian and had a draw that never stopped.
To him, I was only Anastasia... But I wondered whether his wolf could sense the relationship that was building. The way he looked at me, primal and quiet. Did he feel it as well? That pull—old and unavoidable?
I gulped hard and tried to calm my heart. My fingers curled a little as I grabbed for the chilly glass of water. Anything to help me feel stable. I was already too conscious of how my presence had started to grab notice, not only his but also others. Male wolves across the room turned to look at me, their eyes following me with attention I didn't want.
But none of that was important.
Because I only ever got burned when Elliot stared at me that way.
A moment later, Hayley came out again, and all the signs of the snarling wolf from before were hidden behind her well-practiced mask. She sat next to Elliot with a pout and that sad face that seemed to be a part of her—eyes wide and shoulders stooped, as if she were a fragile little thing that needed to be protected.
It made me want to growl.
She wasn't weak. She wasn't weak. She was poison hidden in silk.
I saw her lean in a little bit toward him, letting her smell touch his space. Her hand was right next to his, and her fingers were shaking a little bit to show that she was weak. I felt sick. I went for my drink again and held it too tightly. The coldness helped. Not much.
I didn't want to mess up the night. Not in front of the other people. But gods, I wanted to move and show my teeth.
Hayley may think she's winning, but there's one thing she doesn't get.
I wasn't just a lovely girl in a silk outfit.
I was a wolf with blood on my hands, fire in my heart, and a tie that the moon had made with my soul. And no amount of pretending to be innocent could ever compare.
I didn't even want the steak, but John kept asking, and his tone was too nice. "Miss Tillman, here is the beef steak with truffle that has just been served." Would you like to try one?
I forced a weak smile and reached for the glass of water he had offered me instead. "Thanks."
As soon as supper was over, the event moved on to its next phase: a long speech about the topic of the night. I didn't listen to it. I had been around too much talking, shiny diamonds, and phony smiles. I needed to breathe.
With a glass of red wine in my hand, I went out to the balcony by myself, unseen and undisturbed. I leaned against the cold marble and looked out over the city, which was drenched in moonlight. From up here, it seemed like fields of gold, like the whole earth had turned into molten fire. Pretty, yet empty. All that money and power couldn't replace the empty space in my heart.
I wasn't simply another visitor tonight. I was the only she-wolf standing on the edge of this fancy party, surrounded by silk-clad predators.
And then, behind me, I heard that deep, harsh voice that I knew all too well. "Why are you out here?"
I didn't even look back. My back tensed on its own. That always happened when he was around. "Do I need your permission to breathe the same air now?" I questioned, my voice sounding more angry than I meant it to.
"No." But I really want to know—what does Nigel Manson mean to you?
That caught my eye. I gently turned to face him. Elliot stood there, wine glass in hand, jaw stiff, eyes black like storm clouds about to burst. The lights of the city flickered behind him, but it was his aura that I felt—strong, authoritative, and clearly alpha.
"Do you know Nigel?" I inquired because I was more inquisitive than surprised.
"I do." His voice was hard to read and guarded.
He did, of course. It wasn't unexpected that the names of packs that governed like royalty were known in the same circles. But the way Elliot gazed at me, like if he were attempting to read between the lines of my soul, made my stomach turn.
He got closer. "You didn't answer me. What does he mean to you?
I took a long drink of wine and enjoyed the searing burn on my mouth. "Why should I tell you?" I whispered, narrowing my eyes. "You've already made your choice." "You're friends with Hayley, right?"
I didn't wait for him to react. I turned around and walked away, my heels clicking on the marble like defiance echoing through the night. He didn't stop me. He might not have been able to. But I could feel his eyes on me, burning into my back.
I walked through the crowd again, and their talking was a low hum against the noise in my ears. My heart shouldn't have hurt like it did, but it did. And I despised myself for it.
Hayley was standing not too far away, talking to a socialite who was dressed too nicely. She was laughing phony and her eyes were often looking around the room. And when she saw me come back from the balcony, her body stiffened. She looked behind me quickly, and when she saw Elliot not too far behind, her jaw moved just a little.
She felt I was attempting to get him to sleep with me.
Normal.
Hayley's face changed as soon as he went into the crowd. That's when I saw the wine glass in her hand and the smug smile on her lips as she left her group and walked straight toward me.
She was coming, and not just to talk. Her eyes sparkled like a predator's. Something planned. Something that is harmful.
And I was ready for it.