Page 23

After a moment's hesitation, she slipped the charm into her pocket and took the seat beside me. The relief that flooded through me was embarrassingly intense. Rita sat across from us, her shrewd eyes missing nothing as they darted between Rosie and me.

"Sleep well?" Rita asked Rosie with pointed concern.

"Like a baby," Rosie lied. I could hear the falsehood in her heartbeat, smell the fatigue on her skin.

"And you?" Rita turned her interrogation to me.

"Adequately," I replied smoothly, though I hadn't slept at all. How could I, when every instinct I possessed demanded I be at Rosie's side?

The tension between us was interrupted by a commotion at the entrance. Stephany had arrived. Roger stood and made his way to her side. Her eyes scanned the room until they found Rosie, a malicious smile spreading across her too-perfect face.

"Well, look who decided to join us after ruining my engagement celebration," she announced loudly enough for the entire room to hear.

Conversations halted. All eyes turned toward our end of the table. Rosie stiffened beside me, her hands clenching into fists on her lap. I fought the urge to cover them with my own, to protect her from this petty human's barbs.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rosie replied, her voice admirably steady despite the anxiety I could smell rolling off her in waves.

Stephany and Roger made their way to the table, taking seats directly across from us. Roger's face still bore the faint marks of my grip from the previous night, his neck bruised where I had nearly crushed his windpipe. Good .

"Oh, come on," Stephany drawled, serving herself from a platter of pastries. "Everyone's talking about your boyfriend's little episode. Attacking the groom-to-be? Really classy."

Whispers erupted around the table. I heard Rosie's name mentioned several times, along with mine. The speculation was rampant. Who was I really? Why had I attacked Roger?

If they only knew the truth, that I had nearly killed the man for daring to touch what was mine.

"I didn't attack anyone," my tone could have frozen hell. "I merely removed an unwelcome hand from my girlfriend's person."

Roger snorted, wincing as the movement clearly aggravated his headache. "Overreaction much? I was just talking to an old friend."

"By pinning her against a wall?" I inquired, my voice dangerously soft. The crystal water glass began to crack beneath my grip.

"It's not Rosie's fault her date has anger management issues," Stephany interjected with false sympathy. "Though I suppose we shouldn't be surprised. She always did have terrible taste in men."

The glass shattered in my hand. Water and tiny shards spilled across the tablecloth as conversations around us died completely. I felt my control slipping, the rage building within me. My vision began to blur at the edges, and I knew my eyes were starting to change.

But before I could respond, before I could do something I would regret, Rosie pushed back her chair and stood.

"That's enough," her voice rang clear through the dining room.

Stephany's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"I said that's enough." Rosie's hands were steady now, her chin raised in defiance.

"Let's get a few things straight. First, your little prank last night?

You telling me you needed me in the garden, just so you could laugh about me standing alone like an idiot?

Real mature, Steph. Really showing your wedding guests what a class act you are. "

Stephany's mouth fell open. "I didn't-"

"Save it," Rosie cut her off. "And second, Roger, you weren't 'just talking' to me.

You were drunk, you were disgusting, and you were trying to feel me up against a wall while telling me how I was 'the one that got away.

' Which is hilarious considering you were the one who cheated on me with my stepsister. "

A collective gasp went around the table. Roger's face purpled with rage and embarrassment.

"You little bitch-!" he started, half-rising from his chair.

"Sit down," I growled, allowing just enough of my true nature to surface that the command carried supernatural weight. Roger dropped back into his seat as if physically pushed.

But Rosie wasn't finished. She turned to address the table at large, her green eyes flashing with righteous anger.

"I came here as a courtesy to my father, despite knowing exactly what kind of welcome I'd receive.

I've put up with the snide comments, the fake smiles, and the petty jealousies because I'm an adult.

But I'm done being your punching bag, Stephany.

I'm done pretending that what you and Roger did wasn't cruel.

And I'm especially done apologizing for having someone in my life who actually respects me enough to step in when your fiancé gets handsy. "

The dining room had fallen completely silent. Every eye was on Rosie, standing tall and magnificent in her fury. Pride swelled within me, fierce and unexpected. This was my mate. Strong, defiant, unwilling to be cowed by these insignificant creatures.

And then, from the other side of the table, a slow clapping began. Rita was on her feet, applauding with a wide grin on her face .

"Bravo," she grinned. "About damn time someone said it."

To my surprise, Rosie's father lowered his newspaper and joined in the applause, followed by several others around the table. The elderly aunts were nodding in approval. Even a few of Stephany's bridesmaids looked impressed, hiding smiles behind their napkins.

Stephany's face had gone chalk-white with fury and embarrassment. Roger looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and disappear.

Rosie remained standing for a moment longer, her chest rising and falling with quick breaths. I could smell the adrenaline coursing through her, hear the rapid beating of her heart. But beneath it all was something new. A confidence, satisfaction, and relief.

She had defended herself. She hadn't needed me to do it for her.

And as she slowly sank back into her chair beside me, I felt something shift inside my chest. A realization, slow but inevitable, I could push her away, could deny the bond, could tell myself it was for her protection, but the truth was, Rosie Thompson didn't need my protection.

She was perfectly capable of standing on her own.

What she needed and what she deserved was someone who stood beside her, not in front of her.

Whether that could be me remained to be seen.