Chapter 4: The Night He Chose Her

The party didn’t die down after the confrontation. If anything, the atmosphere grew more twisted.

Someone suggested truth or dare. An empty whiskey bottle spun across the expensive carpet.

In the end, the bottle pointed at Julian.

The one asking the question was an old Northshore classmate, the son of a Stonebridge elder. His eyes flickered between me and Felicity before he smiled.

Pick one woman in this room to spend the night with.

Every voice in the room died.

Some of the looks held sympathy. Others, anticipation. Felicity was going to Tidewatch tomorrow; Julian’s public choice tonight would seal her status as a Luna candidate.

I didn’t react. I just looked down at my phone.

A new message from Wyatt had just appeared.

I’m picking you up on Thanksgiving Day.

I hadn’t even answered before Julian slapped the phone out of my hand.

It hit the wall, the screen shattering instantly.

He grabbed my wrist, his wolf’s pressure flaring with his anger. The lower-ranking wolves in the room averted their eyes.

He looked at me coldly and said one name.

Felicity.

He lifted her into his arms. As he passed me, he paused and glanced deliberately toward the master bedroom.

The master bedroom is ours tonight.

He knew I couldn’t stand another woman’s scent in our bed. For wolves, a bedroom was the most private territory. Even without a wolf of my own, my sense of smell was sharper than a human’s.

I looked at him and nodded calmly.

Then, in front of everyone, I walked into the master bedroom, took an unopened box of condoms from the bedside table, and placed it on the pillow.

The door slammed shut behind me.

I walked to the wall and tore down the expensive lunar calendar.

Three days left.

Early the next morning, I opened the master bedroom door.

A man’s shirt and a woman’s evening gown were strewn across the floor. Used condoms lay scattered on the carpet. My favorite bedding was a twisted, stained mess, saturated with the scent of them tangled together all night.

The pack employee assigned to clean the house stood at the door, her expression awkward and uneasy.

I looked at the wreckage and said flatly, Throw it all out. The sheets, the comforter, the pillows. Everything.

Felicity sat barefoot on the living room sofa, red marks blooming along her neck. They weren’t a mate mark, just ordinary bites Julian had left on purpose, carrying no pack significance at all.

She was feeding Julian coffee with a small spoon, and she smiled at me.

Sorry, Clara. We got your room a little messy.