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Then, just as quickly as he arrived, he steps back.

“I’ll see you at the banquet.”

And with that, he’s gone, leaving me standing in the middle of a boutique with a racing heart and an ache in my chest I don’t quite understand.

But something stirs inside me that is so familiar. Like a dream I’ve forgotten that’s begging me to remember. It brushes the edges of my mind just like Alaric’s faint touch on my neck, and it’s as if something inside me is beginning to awaken.

Chapter Thirteen

ALARIC HELLS

The banquet is an absurd tradition the pack insists on every damn year.

It’s a grand, ridiculous affair where appearances matter more than anything else. The elders claim it’s a way to uphold the Goddess’ will, but in truth, it’s just another excuse for them to meddle in everyone’s business. They are nosy old geezers with nothing better to do.

Normally, I wouldn’t care. I’d show up, endure the night, and leave the moment everyone was too drunk to care. But this year is different. This year, I’m on edge, my senses on high alert as I stand outside the pack house, watching a yellow cab pull up to the curb.

Lila Winter is late.

Twenty-three minutes late, to be exact. And I’ve been counting every single one of them, wondering if she stood me up.

She refused to let me pick her up. I could have easily gotten her address from HR—hell, I nearly did.

She also didn’t want me sending Ethan to fetch her from her home.

Given everything that’s happened in the past week, I didn’t push her. I agreed to do this on her own terms.

But now, as I watch her step out of the cab, I’m hit with a visceral reaction that slams into my chest like a hammer.

She’s wearing the same satin dress she bought with my money. The one that clung to her curves like it was made for her in that boutique.

The only difference now, is her hair, which is half tied in a ponytail, the rest cascading over her shoulders in soft waves that catch the faint glow of the streetlights.

And fuck me, she looks beautiful.

My gaze locks onto her neck as she speaks to the driver, handing him a wad of cash. I should walk over, pay the fare for her, but I’m rooted in place, transfixed. My eyes travel down the elegant curve of her throat, pausing on the sparkling red jewel resting just above her clavicle.

A necklace I saw, thought of her, and bought.

A necklace I fastened around her neck with my own hands.

Possessiveness coils in my gut. My wolf hums with satisfaction, his hunger barely contained. That necklace, that smooth expanse of skin on her neck, it’s like she’s calling to me, daring me to sink my fangs into her, to claim her, to mark her so every single man in that room knows who she belongs to.

Goddess help me, I’m a goner.

Lila finally glances around, searching, until her eyes find mine. Recognition flickers across her face, followed by something softer. And then, she smiles.

It’s small. A bit apprehensive.

But it’s for me.

And boy, does a rush of satisfaction flood through me. I don’t think she’s ever smiled at me before. Not like this.

She starts walking toward me, and I should meet her halfway.

I should pull her to me and tell her exactly what she does to me. Instead, I let myself take in every single inch of her—the way the dress hugs her waist, the way it dips at the neckline, teasing just enough to drive me insane. If I have to buy her a hundred dresses to get her to look at me like this, I will.

The screech of tires breaks my trance as the cab pulls away, leaving us in a silence thick with unspoken tension.