Page 47 of Heroes & Hitmen (Windy City Wolfpack #1)

He just shrugs. “Something like that.”

I narrow my eyes on him, tempted to question it further– but then I remember how he described the guy he got the fake IDs from and the pieces slot together in my brain.

I’d put money on that being him , and I’m not about to draw unwanted attention toward the person who gave us the final component of our escape plan.

So, I just nod and nurse my glass of champagne, pretending like the night isn’t closing in on us. I watch the mirrored walls, the shifting patterns of people as they swirl past. I wonder how many of them are truly happy and how many are just faking it as hard as I am.

Ares tilts his head down, the tip of his nose brushing against my hair. “If you want to bail, just say the word,” he murmurs .

I’d love nothing more, but as if on cue, the music suddenly dies out and the ballroom goes quiet. Alpha’s voice thunders through the sound system, the effect of it like icy claws raking down my spine.

“Thank you, everyone, for joining us this evening,” he booms, flashing a practiced, charismatic grin. “What a wonderful night to celebrate a new era for our pack, one where fate’s blessings shine down upon all of us!”

It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes at his pompous display of insincerity.

He launches into a speech about tradition and the bright future ahead for everyone, the sea of sequins and suits nodding along eagerly, drinking in every lie like oxygen.

He makes platitudes about loyalty, honor, and our pack’s unbreakable legacy and the audience eats it up.

Meanwhile, I’m just trying not to vomit as hatred burns like bile in my throat.

A spotlight suddenly snaps on, flashing right in my eyes as it lands on me and Ares.

I flinch instinctively while Ares squares his shoulders, posture stiffening.

His hand finds mine, fingers tangling with just enough pressure to keep me upright as the light threatens to blind us, the entire room pivoting to gawk in our direction.

“Come join me, won’t you?” Alpha urges, as if we have the option of declining.

Ares squeezes my hand reassuringly, then slides an arm around my waist, steering us through the masses and up to the front. The spotlight’s still assaulting my retinas– all I can see are blurred faces as we pass them, rows upon rows of people hungry for a show.

Alpha beckons us closer as we approach, his smile warm but his stare cold as ice. “Please, let’s have a round of applause for my daughter Miles and her fated mate, Ares Raines!”

The crowd obliges, applause crashing over us like surf. Are they actually buying this crock of shit?

Once we’re in place at his side, Alpha pivots to the mic again.

“As you know, we’ll be having a ceremony tomorrow night for these two to seal their bond before the pack.

In the spirit of looking toward the future, I’d hoped they’d agree to do it the Chicago way, but since Ares isn’t from here, he’s a little hesitant about some of our customs.”

I tense, already knowing what’s coming next and powerless to stop it.

“I’ve tried to assure him that our method of sealing mate bonds is easy and seamless, but now I’m thinking he might just need the pack to lend a little support in helping him come to a decision,” my father continues. “So, I’ll ask you, who here is in favor of progress over antiquated traditions?”

The crowd in front of us roars their support, Ares’ hand holding so tight to mine it almost hurts. I don’t let go, mind spinning as I grapple for some way out of this.

“Okay, okay,” Alpha laughs, holding up his hands to quiet the room before turning to face Ares, grinning like he’s already won. “Then I’ll ask you again, son. Will you honor your mate by adapting to the traditions of her pack, set aside your own pride for the sake of your bond?”

A hush falls, every eye in the room locked on us. I know the answer my father wants; the answer the crowd wants. Ares meets my gaze for a fraction of a second, his expression drawn in a blank mask, but I see the apology in it. The guilt, the resignation.

I can barely process what’s happening before he jerks a nod and we’re swallowed by applause. Alpha claps him on the back, squeezing his shoulder like a proud parent while I die a little inside. Then he leans in close, drawing the microphone away from his mouth so only the three of us can hear.

“Excellent choice, Raines, you won’t regret it,” he murmurs, smirking. “You’re scheduled for nine a.m. tomorrow.”

Of course this was all planned. Ares looks like he wants to rip Alpha’s head clean off his body, but then my father pulls me in for a hug, perfunctory and cold and all for show.

The pack eats it up, clapping and cheering us on while he turns to shake Ares’ hand, then gestures for us to return to the fray, where we’re immediately consumed by a crush of well-wishes.

It's all a blur. I cling to Ares like a life raft while we smile and thank people, trying to work our way back toward Jordan and Will.

A familiar face steps into my field of vision– Ross, the rogue-turned-enforcer who was present on the day of my perusal with Elias– and he flashes me a crooked grin.

“Congratulations again, Miles,” he slurs, clearly having taken advantage of the free champagne. “You look amazing tonight, by the way.”

Ares tightens his hold around my waist, his upper lip curling back from his teeth in a snarl as he declares, “ Mine .”

Ross blinks at him, holding up his hands in surrender and laughing nervously as he melts back into the crowd. Still, Ares’ grip doesn’t loosen, and I’m suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of his body against mine, of the heat radiating off him.

“You know you don’t have to play it up that much,” I whisper, trying to alleviate the tension.

He gazes down at me, eyes darkening. “Who says I’m playing it up?”

A shiver runs through me but I cover it with a smirk. “Almost forgot how good of a liar you are.”

He leans in closer, mouth brushing my ear. “No lies detected, babe. And just so you know, you’re the only thing keeping me from killing half this room tonight.”

“Romantic,” I scoff, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it’s about to burst from my chest.

Glasses clink, people dance, but for a few, blissful seconds, it feels like it’s just the two of us. And I suddenly realize that this lie feels more real than anything else in my life.

I know I should be afraid or at least nervous about what comes next, but as I look up at Ares and see the feral devotion in his eyes, I’m not. Because I’m not alone anymore, and I trust this man to do everything in his power to keep me safe.

And that’s the scariest thing of all.

We manage to slip away from the gala just after midnight, and the city traffic is so light that we’re back at the Tower in under fifteen minutes.

Our elevator ride up to the fiftieth floor is silent.

Ares stands rigidly beside me, still amped up and vibrating with leftover adrenaline from the public spectacle. His shoulders are squared, jaw tight, eyes fixed ahead on the shiny elevator doors like he’s bracing for a second fight.

I try to feel nothing, try to shove it all down. The humiliation, the trepidation, the aching want tangled up in the wreckage of tonight. Because if I let even one thread loose, I’ll come completely unraveled and either sob or bolt. Maybe both.

The elevator doors glide open with a soft whoosh and Ares places a steadying hand on the small of my back, guiding me out into the hallway. His touch is warm and steady, so damn comforting it makes my chest ache.

Inside the apartment, he deadbolts the door behind us to seal in our secrets, but the silence persists. I set my clutch down on the counter and reach up to pull a loose pin from my hair while Ares just stands there bathed in shadows, his dark eyes dragging over me like he’s still on the prowl.

“Haven’t you given enough death glares for one night?” I ask, letting the edge in my voice cut through the tension.

He cocks a brow, a flicker of amusement crossing his features. “Is this the part where you lie about how much you liked it?”

“Liked what?” I scoff, trying to be flippant despite the way my heart rate spikes. “You going all caveman on everyone at the gala?”

He crosses the space between us in three unhurried strides and lifts a hand to my face, thumb grazing my cheekbone. “Yeah, that . You liked it.”

It’s not a question, so I don’t answer. I just pivot, starting down the hallway toward the bedroom with a little more sway in my step than necessary, hoping the show of confidence will distract us both from the fact I’m falling apart at the seams.

I make it a whole five steps before he grabs me.

His arm bands around my waist and he spins me around faster than I can brace for, my back hitting the wall with a soft thud. Ares crowds into my space like he’s trying to fuse our shadows together, hands braced on either side of my head, heat radiating off him in waves.

“Tell me you didn’t,” he growls. His voice isn’t raised, but it hums through my bones, low and dangerous.

“I…” My lips part, but no other words come. My heart kicks against my ribs and the air between us suddenly feels like it’s pulsing with dark promise.

He leans in, breath hot against my ear. “You like it when I claim you,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the skin just beneath my jaw. “When I make it clear you’re mine .”

I want to deny it; want to laugh and roll my eyes and make a joke about how this is all fake and he doesn’t get to say that. But the lie won’t come, and my whole body trembles with the truth of it.

He noses along my jaw, inhaling deeply. “Admit it.”

I snap– not out of anger, but because I can’t hold it in anymore. “ Fine, asshole,” I huff, bucking my hips in a feeble attempt to wriggle free of him. “I liked it.”

His grin is all hunger and wicked heat. “Good girl.”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. I hate how easily I respond to them, how quickly my knees go weak.