Seraphina’s POV
The question hung in the air like a blade poised above my neck. Even though Valerie had been dragged away by security, her venomous words still echoed through the silent restaurant like poison seeping through the walls. I stared at Damien in disbelief, unable to process what I was hearing.
"Is it true?"
His voice was completely different now—cold, clinical, stripped of every trace of the warmth that had made my heart race just monts before. This was the voice of an Alpha passing judgnt, and I was clearly the one being judged.
"Damien, you can’t seriously believe—" I started, but he cut off with a sharp gesture.
"Answer the question, Seraphina." My na on his lips sounded like an accusation now. "Is Adrian Gabriel’s son?"
The betrayal hit like a physical blow. After everything we’d shared today—the mate bond crackling between us, the way he’d defended against Valerie, the gentle way he’d asked about Adrian in the car—he was ready to believe the worst of based on the word of a woman he’d literally thrown out of his office hours earlier.
"You want to know the truth?" My voice ca out steadier than I felt, though my hands were shaking with fury and heartbreak. "The truth is that Adrian’s father is soone disappeared before dawn without even leaving his na five years ago."
Damien’s expression didn’t change, but sothing flickered in his eyes—confusion, maybe even recognition. But it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it.
"Gabriel was never Adrian’s father," I continued, each word feeling like broken glass in my throat. "Gabriel was a lying, cheating bastard who was screwing my stepsister while promising to marry . But he never touched , not once in all the months we dated."
"Then Valerie—"
“She’s a cruel, vindictive bitch who gets off on destroying people!" The words exploded out of with five years of suppressed rage behind them. "She did the sa thing to when I was eighteen—humiliated in front of everyone, made feel like I was nothing, like I deserved every horrible thing that happened to ."
The entire restaurant was still watching our drama unfold like it was better than cable television. I could see phones being discreetly raised, could practically hear the gossip spreading through the werewolf social networks in real ti. By tomorrow, every pack from here to the Canadian border would know about the oga who’d dared to argue with Alpha Nightshadow in public.
But what broke my heart wasn’t the stares or the whispers or even the humiliation. It was the cold distance in Damien’s eyes, the way he was looking at like I was a stranger he was trying to identify in a police lineup.
"You know what?" I said, my voice growing stronger with each word as righteous anger began to override heartbreak. "I don’t need to justify myself to you or anyone else. I’ve spent five years building a life for myself and my son without anyone’s help, and I sure as hell don’t need approval from soone who’s ready to believe gossip over his own mate."
I started to shrug off his suit jacket—the jacket that had felt like protection just minutes ago but now felt like a chain around my shoulders.
"Keep it," he said. "You’ll catch pneumonia."
"I’d rather freeze than wear anything of yours," I shot back, letting the expensive fabric slide off my shoulders and pool on the marble floor between us like a fallen flag of surrender.
The sharp intake of breath from several nearby diners told exactly how shocking my rejection appeared to the watching crowd. Apparently, oga won didn’t refuse Alpha generosity in public. Well, there was a first ti for everything.
Without another word, I turned and walked toward the exit with my head held high, fighting the urge to run like the scared girl I used to be. Each step felt like walking through quicksand—my legs heavy with exhaustion and my chest tight with the effort of not breaking down until I was safely away from all those judging eyes.
The cool night air hit my wine-soaked dress like a slap, making shiver imdiately. "Well, that went spectacularly," Ayla muttered in my mind, her ntal voice dripping with sarcasm.
The elegant heels that had made feel so confident this morning were now instrunts of torture, digging into my feet with every step and making wobble dangerously on the uneven sidewalk. After two blocks of misery, I finally gave up and stopped to slip them off, not caring that I was now barefoot on a city street in an evening dress.
The concrete was cold and rough against my feet, but it was still better than the agony of those heels. I gathered up the skirt of my ruined dress and continued walking, letting my feet take wherever they wanted to go as long as it was away from that restaurant and the man who’d so quickly lost faith in .
"Why does this always happen?" I whispered to the empty street, tears finally beginning to spill down my cheeks now that I was alone. "Why do I keep believing that soone might actually want , might actually choose ?"
I’d walked about six blocks when headlights suddenly illuminated the street behind , followed by the sharp beep of a car horn. I stepped closer to the parked cars lining the sidewalk, assuming the driver just wanted to get out of the way, but the vehicle slowed to a crawl and pulled up beside .
The headlights were bright enough to make squint, throwing everything beyond them into shadow. Then the driver’s side window rolled down, and a voice called out:
"Miss? Are you alright?"
I recognized him imdiately. One of the colleague in the company. He’d been at the dinner party, had been one of the wolves who’d witnessed my spectacular public humiliation. The last thing I needed right now was pity from one of Damien’s circle.
"I’m fine," I called back, not slowing my pace. "Just getting so air."
"With no shoes?" There was genuine concern in his voice, not the mocking tone I’d expected. "Look, I saw what happened back there. That was a really shitty situation, and I’m sorry you had to deal with it."
I stopped walking, partly because my feet were starting to bleed and partly because his unexpected kindness caught off guard. "Thank you, but I don’t need—"
"Your feet are bleeding," he said simply, and when I looked down, I could see dark spots on the concrete where I’d been walking. "Look, I know we don’t really know each other, but I can’t just drive past and leave you walking barefoot through downtown. At least let give you a ride sowhere safe."
I studied his face in the glow of the dashboard lights. He was handso in a more approachable way than Damien—sandy brown hair, warm hazel eyes, and a smile that seed genuine rather than calculated.
"I don’t want to impose." I said carefully, still maintaining my distance from the car.
He interrupted with a slight smile. "I make my own decisions about who I help and why. And right now, I’m deciding to help soone who’s had a really horrible night."
The sincerity in his voice, combined with the increasing pain in my feet and the reality that I had nowhere else to go, finally broke down my resistance.
"Okay," I said quietly, hobbling around to the passenger side. "Thank you."
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