Chapter 9

9

KILLIAN

T he tie around my neck might as well be a collar.

It would have been nice to have just one night to myself, but I suppose it's good to get a glimpse of the life my father left behind. It will certainly make it much easier to leave.

Edmund scowls. "At least try not to incinerate everyone at the table with your glare, sir." He sighs, his expression softening as I blow out a breath, stress making my posture tense, and my brow sweat. "You'll get used to all these events."

"I doubt it," I mutter, tugging on my cufflinks and forcing my racing heart to settle.

It's not the dinner that has me on edge. I can make inane small talk with the best of them. It's my wolf that's driving me up the walls. He wants to see her. I get it. I do too, although for slightly less primal reasons. But I need to be able to function in the meantime.

Without saying a word, Edmund produces a glass of Redbreast whiskey and presses it into my palm.

I stroll to the Tudor-style window, the stunning view broken up by the diamond-shaped grids. Touching the dark lines in the glass, my gaze settles on the countryside beyond. It's the only way to stop this place from feeling like a prison.

"Alpha Zane is here to escort you to dinner." Edmund announcing the alpha is completely unnecessary. His scent filtered into the room the minute he set foot on this floor. His energy sweeps into the room before him as Edmund opens the door to my suite.

Zane looks about as happy about this dinner as I do, and I can't hide my smile when his gaze zeroes in on the glass of amber heaven in my hand. Marching over to the sideboard, he grabs the bottle like it's a lifeline and pours two fingers into a glass before knocking it back.

"That's sacrilege," I comment dryly, settling into an armchair and stretching my legs out in front of me.

Edmund looks at Zane, who also looks to be in no hurry to leave, before shutting the door. He moves to Zane's side and snatches the bottle from his grasp, nodding to a chair while he pours the man another drink.

"Who's down there?" There's no hiding the reticence in my voice.

Zane matches my body language, relaxing, and letting his long legs slide out in front of him as Edmund hands him more whiskey with a look of warning.

I don't think he'll be getting another.

"Three of my alpha's. John Hunt, Gareth Stone, and Freddy Andrews. Two council members who couldn't make it to Steel's pack, alphas Connor Strong and Aidan Kirk, and their lunas, Andrea and Faye. Security, of course." His gaze slides to mine before he looks back at the drink he's nursing.

"Of course," I add bitterly.

Zane has outlined the measures he's put in place to ensure I stay alive long enough to get back to Ireland. It's thorough, and I appreciate his professionalism, but it doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.

"And Elodie," he adds, watching me for a reaction.

"Good," I say to myself.

Zane nods along.

"About Elodie. She's suggested some… enhancements."

I nod along, but my thoughts don't linger on Elodie's presence for long. It's her sister that haunts my dreams.

Zane continues to drone on about the work Elodie does in the house, and how she's worked closely with the security team, but it's all dull.

Zoning him out, I allow myself a moment of self-indulgence as I remember Charlotte's green eyes darkening the moment she caught my scent, her tongue wetting her lips as the connection between us ping ponged across the room.

Maybe I can carve out a few minutes alone with Elodie this evening and find out some more about her sister.

"I'll need to speak to Elodie alone this evening," I say, distracted by the plan forming in my mind.

Zane stands and sets down his glass, still half full, before dragging in a relieved breath. "Of course. And I'll arrange for that meeting tomorrow with Charlotte." I watch him curiously as he sweeps a hand down over his tie and re-buttons his jacket.

Apparently, it's time to go, our few moments of procrastination now coming to an end.

Perhaps if I extend an invite to the palace to her entire family, she'll be forced to come along.

I make a mental note to ask Edmund how to go about that.

As my wolf surges forward once more, I decide it needs to be sooner rather than later.

Flexing my fingers, I fight the urge to pace and prowl. My body seems too small, or the energy building inside me is too big.

The need to stalk and hunt is like a living thing inside me, getting stronger and more agitated, more insistent.

I can't work like this. I need a clear head.

"Are you ready?" He's dropped the sir nonsense, as requested, but still can't bring himself to address me as Killian.

It will come.

I don't pretend to be eager to move, but I'm also not going to make Zane and Edmund's lives difficult by fighting against them and the work they're doing. Being difficult for the sake of it isn't my style. And so, I stride out my suite and down the stairs, with Zane at my side, staying a respectful half step behind me. I keep wanting to stop and let him catch up, but then I remember why he's here: to protect me, not to be my new best friend, so I keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Following further behind, two suited bodyguards keep a keen eye on every movement, every corner, every possible threat. I'm not sure if I find their glaring presence reassuring, or if they're merely a constant, unnerving reminder that I can't trust anyone.

Tapping into the blueprint of the house, now imprinted on my mind, I follow the corridor toward the elegant dining room.

My fingers stretch out and glide along the surface of a nearby table of their own accord. Coming to a halt, I frown, lifting my hand to my face.

Zane looks at me as though I've lost it when I sniff my fingertips.

It's her. She's here.

Every sense switches to high alert, and my nose locks in on the very faint trail of her scent through these halls. She's been here for hours while I've moped about upstairs. But how?

"Sir?" One of my security guards leans in, breaking my trance, unsure what to say next. He looks at me with concern, my erratic behaviour unnerving him, but less than the idea of challenging me on what I'm doing.

I don't explain myself, just nod and resume my steady march toward the dining room.

Is she here on the arm of another alpha? Is that why she ran?

I steel myself for the jealousy I know will come if I see her so much as look at another male.

When I enter the room, everyone stands, and it takes every ounce of strength I have to keep my jaws clamped firmly shut. The desire to tell everyone to sit the fuck down so I can find her sweeps over me.

My two bodyguards turn and station themselves outside the door, leaving me standing there in the doorway, like a spare prick. I wait, but it's only when Edmund appears beside my seat at the head of the table, that I remember proper etiquette dictates that nobody sits until I do.

With heavy steps, I skirt the table, nodding politely, desperate to get a glimpse of her. Finally, as I lower myself into the ridiculously pompous throne-like chair, everyone else retakes their seats.

And there she is.

Puzzled, I wonder why she hasn't come to the table. Why is she standing against the wall?

I'm too preoccupied staring at her face, willing her to look at me, so I can see those beautiful eyes once more, to take in her outfit.

She's not in formal evening wear like everyone else. She's in combat gear disguised as a neat black suit. It's only when she touches her finger to her ear that I see the wire snaking down her slim, elegant neck.

I'm half out of my seat when Zane slides into the chair to the right of me, momentarily blocking my view. The growl tumbles from my lips before I can stop it, and Zane whips his head around, stunned at the weight of aggression behind it.

But I'm not looking at him.

Now that his fat head is out of the way, I can see her again, and those green eyes blink at me, like a deer caught in the headlights. She only looks away when Elodie comes to my other side and sits, her hand skimming along my forearm, as she drops in the seat Edmund has pulled out for her.

"Welcome," I say. "Eat, drink, and then we'll chat."

Conversation resumes, and everyone's attention shifts away from me, relieved I'm not going to bore them with a monologue before they get the chance to fill their bellies. Fixating on my mate, who stares straight ahead refusing to look at me, jaw clenched, I admire her strong physique, her confident posture, and her beautiful profile.

And her ability to pretend I don't exist. She's doing a better job than I am.

"Your Majesty, would you like some wine?" Elodie gestures to Edmund, who's waiting at my shoulder for a response to a question I never even heard.

I nod, uncaring, that is, until I spot the vein on Charlotte's neck fluttering, and the slow flush creeping up her cheeks. She clasps her hands together behind her back and tilts her chin a little higher, doubling down on her refusal to meet me.

But then I realise why.

Puzzled, I lean into Zane and whisper, "Why is Elodie seated at my side?"

Mistaking my genuine confusion for humour, he smirks. "You did say you wanted to speak to her."

He looks at me quizzically when I narrow my eyes at him, but this isn't the time or place to correct him.

Nobody gets to sit at my side, apart from my mate.

The meal continues in the same vein, Elodie lighting up the room with flirtatious laughter and charming stories, while Charlotte looks more and more like she might explode.

I attempt to be a good host despite the nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach. This feels so wrong.

The moment the last set of cutlery hits the plates, I stand and clap my hands together. "Let's retire to the drawing room."

Everyone smiles and nods, doing what I suggest, despite the abruptness of my announcement.

There's something to be said for this prince rubbish.

Charlotte never moves an inch, doesn't even blink, as I stride right up to her, standing not more than a foot in front of her. I can sense her wolf, feel her calling out to mine, but the woman herself is stubborn as hell, and staring straight ahead.

"Charlotte, I can't believe you're here." The words tumble from my mouth like a plea.

Look at me. Look at me, I beg, screaming the words inside my head.

When her tongue darts out to wet her lips, the only hint at her nerves, I stare at her full lips, entranced.

Her hand twitches, her cheeks pink ever so slightly, and her pupils widen. The attraction between us is irresistible.

She's going to do it.

I can feel her cracking.

She's going to look at me.

"Oh, you found my sister. I suppose there is some family resemblance, despite the differences in style ." Elodie sidles up to me, touching my elbow gently as she stands at my side, facing my mate, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

How easily she can act so familiar is startling, or maybe, I just think that because I feel so awkward.

"Charlotte, I know you're supposed to be stoic while you're working, but you're being rude. The prince is talking to you."

Charlotte never moves, but her eyes blaze as they slowly drift to mine.

The emerald-green flecks glow fiercely as she ignores her sister's taunts and focuses her attention on my chin, still refusing to meet my eye.

Another luna compliments Elodie's dress, and she's momentarily distracted, stepping away to compliment the other woman's shoes in turn.

Everyone else fades away, so I inch closer, but Charlotte shuts me down when she jerks her gaze back to that damn spot on the wall.

"Look at me," I demand, needing her to look into my eyes again, like I need to breathe.

She does, finally, and I immediately regret asking, because there's nothing there but fiery rage.

Before I can do something stupid, and put Charlotte squarely in the firing line, Zane joins us.

"Let's get this over and done with." He's about to turn away, but then stops, taking a second look at Charlotte. "Charlotte, go do a sweep of the perimeter. You look like you could do with some fresh air."

Muttering a curse under my breath, I watch my chance to speak with her slip through my fingers.

"With pleasure," she says, shooting me one last poisonous glare before she ducks around Zane and slips from view. "Enjoy your nightcap, sir ."

I can't do anything but watch as, for the second time, my mate runs away from me.

"I promise, she's normally more pleasant than that. She just has a… difficult relationship with her family." Zane looks nervous when I turn to him after watching Charlotte go. "You'll see tomorrow. Charlotte will do her job, even if she doesn't seem like girlfriend material right now."

Growling, I glare at him. "What?"

He's on thin ice, daring to suggest my mate is anything other than perfect.

Zane looks at me, confused. "That was Charlotte. Your new fake girlfriend."