Olivia

As we stepped into the elevator, Sophie’s arm still linked with mine, her bright smile wavered, a faint crease forming between her brows.

“I’m really sorry about Mom last night,” she murmured, her voice soft, apologetic. “I tried to steer the conversation away, but…”

“You don’t have to do that.” I leaned back against the cool elevator wall, letting out a slow breath. “Sophie, you don’t have to keep apologizing for her. She has a mouth. She has a voice. She should be the one saying those words, not you.”

“I know.” Sophie’s gaze dropped to the shiny marble floor, her fingers fidgeting with the delicate strap of her purse. “But it’s just… I hate that she makes you feel like that. And I hate that I put you in that position last night.”

“It’s not your fault.” I forced a smile, nudging her shoulder with mine. “I’m a big girl. I can handle a few passive-aggressive barbs. Besides, if I let her get to me every time, I’d be a mess.”

“Still…” Her voice trailed off, her bright blue eyes meeting mine again, a faint, worried shadow lingering there.

“Hey.” I reached out, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I survived. I always do.”

Sophie’s smile returned, soft but a little sad. “I know. I just wish you didn’t have to.”

The elevator doors slid open, and we stepped out into the bustling lobby, the warm sunlight streaming through the tall glass windows, casting a golden glow over the polished marble floors. The valet had already pulled Sophie’s car around, and we slipped inside, the soft hum of the engine a comfortable background noise.

“So, lunch?” Sophie asked, a little too brightly. “I was thinking that little café by the lake. The one with the amazing paninis?”

“Sounds perfect.” I leaned back, letting the cool leather of the seat press against me.

As we pulled onto the main road, Sophie’s fingers drummed lightly against the steering wheel, her gaze flicking toward me now and then, curiosity and concern mingling in her eyes.

“So… last night,” she began, her voice careful. “I, um… I hope you got back to the hotel okay. I mean, I know Adrian drove you.”

My pulse jumped, and I fought the ridiculous urge to burst out laughing. If only she knew just how okay I’d been after Adrian drove me back.

“Yeah, he was…” I paused, trying to keep my face neutral. “He was polite. You know, in that grumpy, ‘I-take-myself-too-seriously’ kind of way.”

Sophie giggled, her shoulders relaxing. “Yeah, that sounds like him. I kind of got the feeling you two don’t really get along.”

Understatement of the century. Or at least it would’ve been if I hadn’t spent the entire night tangled up in his arms, gasping his name, feeling his hands claim every inch of me.

“Maybe he just needs to lighten up,” I suggested, forcing a casual shrug, though the smile tugging at my lips was impossible to hide.

“You think so?” Sophie glanced at me, her head tilted with that sweet, curious expression that always made me want to protect her. “He’s always been so serious. I think it’s the whole ‘Alpha’ thing.”

“Yeah, definitely the Alpha thing,” I muttered, my gaze drifting out the window, a flood of memories from last night crashing over me—his rough, possessive touch, his deep, hungry voice growling my name, his lips tracing fire across my skin.

“Liv?”

I snapped back, blinking, and Sophie was staring at me, her brow furrowed.

“Huh?”

“I was just saying that I hope you two can get along. I mean, he can be a little… intense, but he’s really a good guy. And he’s done so much for the pack.”

“Yeah. A real hero.” I bit back a laugh, the heat still lingering in my cheeks. If Sophie had any idea what her Alpha had been doing to me last night… well, that would make for an interesting rehearsal dinner conversation.

“So, did you two talk much on the drive back?” Sophie asked, her voice light, casual, but there was a curious edge there.

“Oh, you know, the usual.” I forced another smile, trying to keep my voice even. “Pack politics, the weather, his apparent allergy to dessert.”

Sophie laughed, shaking her head. “That’s so him. So serious all the time.”

“Yeah.” I leaned back, crossing my legs, my fingers tracing a slow circle against the leather seat, a small, satisfied smile pulling at my lips.

Lunch was supposed to be a nice, quiet escape—just me and Sophie, a little sisterly bonding to wash away the lingering sting of last night’s dinner. But the second we stepped into the bright, bustling café by the lake, Sophie’s face lit up, and she waved eagerly at someone across the room.

“Liv, this is Ada!” Sophie beamed, practically dragging me over to a sunny table near the window, where a stunning woman rose to greet us.

Ada was breathtaking—tall, with smooth, rich chocolate skin that practically glowed under the sunlight filtering through the window. Her long, wavy hair cascaded over her shoulders, and the vibrant yellow dress she wore seemed to catch and reflect every ray of light, making her look like a living burst of sunshine.

“Olivia!” Ada’s smile was warm, her voice a soft, melodic hum. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Hope it’s all good,” I replied, trying to force a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

“It’s mostly good.” Sophie giggled, sliding into the chair beside Ada, her excitement practically vibrating off her. “I told you Ada’s company is doing the catering for the ceremony, right? She’s been an absolute lifesaver.”

Ada’s smile softened, her gaze shifting to Sophie with a fondness that was almost sisterly. “Sophie’s too sweet. I’m just doing my job.”

For the next hour, the two of them fell into a rapid-fire discussion of menus, guest lists, seating arrangements—all the intricate, glittering details of a perfect ceremony. And me? I became a spectator, a silent bystander nodding along, swirling my iced tea with the straw, trying to pretend I wasn’t drowning in a sea of floral arrangements and wine pairings.

“Liv, what do you think? Chicken or lamb?” Sophie asked, her eyes wide, practically sparkling.

“Uh… both?” I mumbled, trying to keep my smile in place.

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Sophie chirped, launching into a debate with Ada about a dual entrée option.

I sipped my tea, watching the two of them, my chest tightening just a little. Ada was so… perfect. Elegant, poised, effortlessly fitting into this world of perfect weddings and fairy-tale romances. And me? I was the chaos, the messy sister in jeans and a faded band tee, pretending I wasn’t completely out of my depth.

“So, Olivia,” Ada’s voice broke through my thoughts, her warm, curious gaze shifting to me. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” I replied automatically, my smile a little too tight. “It’s my sister’s mating ceremony. I’m happy for her.”

“No, I mean…” Ada’s expression softened, a hint of something almost sympathetic in her dark eyes. “I heard about the divorce. Sophie mentioned you were married to a human?”

Of course, she did.

My smile faltered, my fingers tightening around my glass. Wolves and their insatiable need to know everything about everyone. Nothing stayed private for long.

But Ada’s expression wasn’t prying, wasn’t judgmental. In fact, there was something else there—something softer, sadder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry,” she continued, leaning back slightly. “It’s just… I know a bit about loss.”

A faint, bitter laugh slipped from me. “Loss? You mean… oh.” I trailed off, watching as her gaze drifted to the lake outside, a soft, distant sadness settling over her.

“I was twenty-four,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “We’d only been mated for a year when… when Adam died.”

Her voice wavered, just for a second, but she held it together, her smile a little too perfect, a little too forced.

I went still, a strange, quiet ache twisting in my chest. I didn’t know this woman, didn’t know her story beyond what she’d just said, but I knew that look—the hollow, empty ache of loss that never really went away.

Mating wasn’t what I wanted. I’d spent my whole life avoiding it, running from the idea of forever, of being bound to someone by a force I couldn’t control. But here, looking at Ada’s face, I remembered the stories—the whispered legends of wolves who lost their mates, of souls torn apart, of grief so raw it could drive you mad.

“I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you,” I whispered, my voice softer than I intended.

“It was… hard,” Ada admitted, her fingers still tracing the glass, her gaze still lost in the sunlight on the lake. “I’m better now. I built something for myself, something I can be proud of. But sometimes… sometimes it still feels like there’s this empty space.”

I swallowed, my own chest tightening, a bitter, aching laugh slipping out of me. “Yeah. Empty space. I know what that feels like.”

Ada’s gaze snapped to mine, warm and gentle, a quiet understanding settling between us.

“My ex-husband,” I continued, feeling the words slip out before I could stop them. “He wasn’t a wolf. Just a human. But gods, I loved him. I thought he was everything. And then… then I found out he wasn’t.”

A soft, sympathetic smile touched Ada’s lips, and Sophie reached over, giving my hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“It’s different, I know. Divorce isn’t… it’s not the same as losing a mate. But it still hurts like hell. Still feels like something’s been ripped out of you.”

“Pain is pain, Olivia.” Ada’s voice was soft, warm, a gentle reassurance. “No matter the shape it takes.”

She took a slow sip of her drink, her gaze still fixed on the lake outside. “Even after all this time—eleven years now—I still feel like I can’t fill that void. Some days it’s just… there, like a shadow I can’t shake. But I found joy in my work. It keeps me moving forward. And I love seeing other couples find the happiness I once had. It’s bittersweet, but it’s also beautiful.”

Her words hung in the air, and for once, I didn’t feel like saying something sarcastic or biting to break the tension. I just smiled—a real, genuine smile that felt a little strange on my face.

“You’re stronger than most people I know,” I said softly.

Ada returned the smile, softer now, and I could see the strength in her eyes, the way she’d built herself back up after life had knocked her down. It was admirable. Painful, but admirable.

Sophie, sensing the heaviness of the moment, gently steered the conversation to lighter waters. “So, Ada, I finally picked a color for the ladies’ dresses.”

Ada’s eyebrows lifted in interest. “Oh? What did you go with?”

Sophie shot me a hesitant glance, almost as if asking for permission before speaking. “I didn’t dare pick anything without consulting Liv. I figured whatever color or style I chose, she’d kill me.”

I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my chair. “That’s stupid. It’s your special day, Soph. Whatever you want, I’ll wear it. Pink and fluffy, blood red, doesn’t matter. You say it, I’ll do it.”

Sophie’s face lit up with a wide, almost disbelieving smile. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged, taking another sip of my iced tea. “I’ll even wear sequins if that’s your thing. I mean, it’s not every day your baby sister gets mated. Go crazy.”

Sophie beamed, her whole face lighting up. “Well, I did tell the other girls they could wear lavender, but I didn’t want to make you wear something you’d hate…”

I snorted. “ Lavender ? Pfft. That’s nothing. I was expecting hot pink tulle or something.”

Ada chuckled, and Sophie looked genuinely relieved. “Really? You’d wear it?”

“Yes, Soph. I’ll wear whatever you pick. Lavender, sequins, a dress made of feathers. It’s your day. I’m not going to be the jerk who complains about a dress.”

Sophie’s mouth dropped open in mock shock. “When did you become so nice and considerate of other people’s needs?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Don’t get used to it. This is a one-time deal.”

She shot me a knowing look, and for a second, memories of last night flashed through my mind—Adrian’s hands gripping my waist, his mouth tracing hot lines down my neck, his growl when I pulled his hair just right.

My cheeks heated, and I quickly sipped my drink, trying to drown the memory with iced tea. I’d worry about the whole lavender dress thing later. I didn’t even know where to get a dress that color.

Ada and Sophie continued discussing flower arrangements, and I tried to follow along, but my mind kept drifting back to Adrian. His voice. His touch. The way his possessive hands had pinned me against the wall, his growl rumbling through my entire body.

Gods. What the hell was wrong with me? One wild night, and suddenly I was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. I needed to get my head on straight. Preferably before dinner tonight.

But as much as I tried to push it away, the memory of Adrian’s lips on mine kept burning its way back into my thoughts.

After lunch, Sophie dropped me off at the hotel with a cheerful wave and a promise to see me later, her little pearl-colored car zipping away toward her massage appointment. I stood on the curb for a moment, watching her disappear into the bustling street, then turned and made a beeline for the concierge desk.

The lobby was its usual blend of sleek sophistication—polished black marble floors, tall, arched windows, and a chandelier that looked like it belonged in a castle. The kind of place where everything was meant to impress and nothing was meant to feel like home.

“Hi,” I greeted the woman behind the desk, a neatly dressed brunette with a warm, professional smile. “I need a favor. I’m looking for a store that sells dresses but… you know, not the kind that requires a second mortgage.”

Her smile didn’t falter. Not even a hint of judgment in those polite brown eyes. “Of course, Ms. Carter. Let me see what we have nearby.” Her fingers danced over the keyboard, her gaze flicking to the screen. “Are you looking for something formal, semi-formal, or more casual?”

“Formal-ish,” I said, trying to keep the anxiety out of my voice. “Lavender, apparently. Long story.”

“Got it.” She typed a little faster, her expression calm, and I felt a tiny bit of the tension in my chest ease. Maybe this wouldn’t be a disaster.

I leaned against the counter, my eyes wandering over the sleek, monochrome design of the lobby. It was beautiful, elegant, and absolutely funereal. If they added a casket, this place could double as a luxury mausoleum.

“Here we are,” the concierge said, her voice warm, pulling me back. “There’s a lovely boutique about fifteen minutes away, excellent selection, and their prices are very reasonable.”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

But before I could take the little map she printed out, a tall shadow swept over me, a familiar scent wrapping around me before I even turned.

Of course. Adrian.

I didn’t need to turn to know it was him. That calm, commanding presence, the faint scent of cedar and something darker. I closed my eyes for a split second, steeling myself, then turned.

And yep. There he was. Tall, perfectly put together in a crisp, dark suit, his sharp, dark eyes fixed on me with that faint, almost smug amusement I’d come to expect.

“Running errands?” His voice was smooth, deep, a lazy warmth beneath the cool control.

“I was. Now I’m apparently running into you.”

“I can drive you,” he offered, and I didn’t miss the way his gaze swept over me, lingering just a little longer than necessary.

“No, thanks.” I shook my head, folding the little map and tucking it into my purse. “Last thing I need is an Alpha-hole playing chauffeur and then pretending he saved the day.”

He laughed, a low, warm sound that sent an irritating thrill through me. “Alpha-hole? I’m honored. But are you sure? I’d hate for you to wander into some overpriced boutique and waste all your money on something I’ll end up tearing off you anyway.”

“Such a gentleman,” I shot back, crossing my arms. “Why don’t you spend your money on something useful? Like yellow roses for the lobby. Give this place a little life, a little elegance. Right now, it’s got a ‘luxury crypt’ vibe going on.”

Adrian’s mouth curled into a slow, lazy smile, and for a moment, I hated how good he looked. Tall, powerful, dark eyes that seemed to see right through me. And that faint, amused glint in his gaze—like he enjoyed the chaos I brought with me.

“Noted. I’ll take it under advisement.” He leaned in, just slightly, his voice dropping to a low, almost teasing murmur. “But something tells me I’d rather spend my money on you.”

“Save your cash, Alpha. I’m not a charity case.”

“Never thought you were.”

He reached into his pocket, and before I could snap back, he slipped something into my hand—smooth, cool, and metallic. His key card.

“Come see me after,” he murmured, his voice low, a rough, almost possessive warmth threading through his tone. “I’d love to tear down with my teeth whatever dress you pick.”

My heart did a wild, stupid flip in my chest, but I forced a mocking smile. “Big words, Alpha-hole. Sure you can keep up?”

“Try me.” He stepped back, that infuriating, lazy smile never fading.

I should have tossed the card back, should have snapped something sharp and dismissive, but my fingers tightened around it, and the words caught in my throat.

Adrian just smiled, gave me a little nod, and strode away, his tall, powerful figure disappearing through the marble archway leading to the elevators.

My fingers curled around the card, and I felt the heat blooming in my cheeks. Damn him. Damn that smug smile, those sharp eyes, that calm, irritating confidence.

Shoving the card into my purse, I turned, heading for the doors, determined to find that dress. And determined to forget the way his voice had wrapped around me like a promise.