"Smile, Jasmine. You'll crack your face if you keep frowning like that."
It was Mindie, my best friend. The only person who knew everything about Elliot and the pain I'd buried. About the bond that nearly broke me.
Her voice was low and teasing, but I heard the concern underneath it. She hadn't let me face this night alone. Said if I was going to walk into hell, she'd walk beside me. Right now, she was the only reason I hadn't bolted through the door.
I forced a smile. The kind I'd worn like armor for months. Bright, controlled and empty. But no smile could shield me from what I saw next.
Elliot. His hand cupped Isabella Laken's cheek, gently. My stomach twisted. Then he kissed her, slow, deep and tender. In front of everyone. The same way he used to kiss me.
I couldn't breathe. I turned away, heart pounding. My wolf whimpered inside me. She curled in on herself, wounded and weak. Just like she had been the day he rejected me… having marked me a week earlier.
He didn't even wait for the bond to settle.
I stared down into my wine glass as I twirled it in my hand. The crowd clapped and cheered as if this was the fairytale ending everyone hoped for. Except, I wasn't the princess in this story.
I was the discarded and shameful past.
"Still standing?" a deep voice said beside me. It instantly sent shivers down my spine. A woody musky scent overwhelmed me. What?
I blinked, startled, and turned. The man looked older. Maybe forty-five or fifty. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a sharp jaw. A streak of silver ran through his dark hair, but it was his eyes that caught me.
Storm-gray and unreadable. They locked onto mine and I couldn't look away. Something about them pulled me in, like a moth to the light. My breath caught, and even my wolf stirred inside me, alert and tense.
Who was this man? I swallowed hard. "Excuse me?" I looked around frantically for Mindie wondering when she left my side.
"You looked like you were about to faint," he said, nodding at my trembling hand. "Wouldn't be nice collapsing in the middle of an engagement party."
I glanced down. My wine trembled, the stem barely steady in my grip. I tightened my fingers around it and forced a light laugh. "Just a little warm in here, that's all."
He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he wanted to unravel. Then, without a word, he turned and beckoned to a passing server. Within seconds, a chilled flute of sparkling water was in his hand, which he offered to me.
"You might prefer this." I hesitated. Then I took it.
"Thanks."
He didn't smile, but the corner of his mouth twitched, like he was used to people thanking him and didn't care much either way.
My head was spinning, trying to figure out who he was. That powerful aura… the way he stood, the way he looked at me like he saw straight through me. No other man had ever made me or my wolf feel this small. He must be a very powerful alpha.
Then it clicked. "You're… Gareth Laken, right?"
He raised an eyebrow. "I am."
Of course he was. Isabella's father. The Lycan Chairman. He was royalty personified. And me? I was just the girl whose ex was marrying his daughter for power. I had no business talking with him.
"I'm here to support the groom," I said, when I realized he was waiting for me to explain myself.
Gareth's eyes darkened slightly. Shit. Had he heard the rumors? Did he know?
There was a long pause. Then he said, "Funny. You don't look like someone celebrating."
I lifted my chin. "You must be mistaken."
The air between us crackled. His gaze dipped briefly to my neck where Elliot's mark used to be…and lingered there. The look in his eyes said he hadn't missed a thing. What's he searching for?
"I see," he said softly.
Then, as if fate wanted to humiliate me further, someone jostled past us, elbow out, and their wine glass tipped. Red wine soaked through my cream dress like blood.
"Oh no," I gasped, stepping back.
Great. Not only was I the emotionally wrecked ex, now I looked like I'd been attacked by a damn bottle of merlot.
Gareth moved before I could finish processing it. One smooth step and he was in front of me, shrugging off his black tailored coat. He swiftly draped it around my shoulders, the heavy fabric falling over me like a shield.
His scent hit me instantly. Cedarwood. Musk. Heat. I breathed it in, as it wrapped around me, thick and heady. My wolf stirred, ears pricking up and leaned in closer.
And then I saw it, just for a second. His eyes flashed, the gray darkening to pitch black like a storm ready to break. His wolf. It had surfaced, just barely, but enough that mine felt it.
The pull was sudden, sharp and so… wrong. He must've felt it too, because his jaw tightened but his voice stayed calm.
"Come with me," he said. "You can change in my room upstairs."
I should've said no. I should've stayed away from this man with the storm in his eyes and fire in his voice.
But the alternative was standing in this ballroom, wine-soaked and exposed, while Elliot continued to play the devoted fiancé.
So I nodded.
***
His suite smelled like cedarwood and something darker… muskier. It suited him. Everything in the room did—clean lines, dark colors, sharp edges. Elegant, masculine, controlled.
I stepped inside, still wrapped in his coat. The fabric smelled of him and couldn't stop breathing it in.
"Bathroom's through there," Gareth said, his voice calm as he nodded toward a door. "You can freshen up."
I hesitated, then moved toward it, but paused in front of the dresser mirror. I couldn't recognize the pale figure with haunted eyes that stared back at me.
"You okay?" His voice was low behind me, almost gentle.
"I'm fine," I said without thinking.
"Try again."
I turned slowly to face him. "I said I'm fine, didn't I?"
He didn't flinch. "You're lying."
I bit my lip. Of course I was.
Everything inside me was a mess. My heart, my head, my wolf. She paced beneath my skin, drawn to him in a way that made no sense. He wasn't mine. He was my ex-mate's future father-in-law. He was the Lycan Chairman for crying out loud. And yet…
He stepped closer. Not enough to touch, but close enough that I felt his heat. It rolled off him in waves. My body went still. My wolf leaned forward expectantly.
The urge to reach out, to touch him, was sudden and strong. What's going on? I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms to ground myself.
Then his voice, low and steady, cut through the haze. "You're Elliot's ex-mate."
The words slammed into me like a blow. My breath hitched, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe. My heart thudded so loud I was sure he could hear it. Shame and pain twisted in my chest.
He knew. How? Only a few people knew the truth. Elliot had made sure of that—kept it quiet, buried it like a dirty secret.
I swallowed hard, trying to stay calm, but my voice came out shaky. "Who… who told you—"