Then a shriek tore through the hallway. I recognized my step-sister’s wail even though, like with her expression only a few minutes ago, I had never experienced the sound quite like that.
Samantha came flying out of my father’s
study at the far end of the house, mascara streaking down her face, breasts heaving as she sobbed so hard she could barely breathe.
“I won’t do it!” she screamed. “I won’t marry that monster!”
[Evelyn’s POV]
It was all quite dramatic, but knowing Samantha, I doubted it was anything I wanted to witness, so I turned back to the hallway. To my surprise, Isabella cornered me there a moment later, still dabbing her eyes with a silk handkerchief complete with her usual monogram.
“OK,” I said. “What happened in there?”
“The Alpha King selected our pack’s Alpha daughter for Alexander’s marriage arrangement,” she said. “Your father put Samantha’s name forward. The reward is, well, considerable.”
“And Samantha?”
“What do you think?” Isabella pressed the handkerchief to her nose. “The girl is inconsolable. She keeps screaming about being fed to a monster. Your father tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t hear a word of it.”
I could picture it. But this time, I couldn’t
really blame my step-sister for making a scene. The previous women who had been matched with Alexander had all fled before the wedding. Whatever they’d seen or heard had been enough to make them reject the king’s money and run.
For a moment, I felt something close to sympathy.
But it didn’t last because a cold thought followed: If Samantha refuses, whom will they send instead?
I pushed it away. That had nothing to do with me. Liam was going to ask for my hand in a few days.
This isn’t my fight.
* * *
I went looking for Liam that afternoon. He was doubtlessly reading the paper or some financial magazine somewhere, and I needed to see him. I needed him to be present, to be mine and to remind myself I was his.
I found him in the guest parlor, alone, turning a half-empty coffee mug between his palms
and a copy of Forbes in his lap. He looked up when I entered but didn’t smile.
“You won’t believe what Samantha did this morning,” I said, sitting down across from him. “She was wearing my wedding dress. Pulling the neckline down, taking selfies in it, sending them to someone.”
Liam took a sip of coffee. “Hm.”
“She shoved me when I tried to get it back. Literally shoved me.”
“That’s just Samantha,” he said, without looking up.
I waited for more, then asked, “Doesn’t that bother you at all?”
“Evelyn, I don’t really want to get involved in your family stuff.” His tone was flat and final.
The dismissal stung, but I told myself he was preoccupied.
“Have you figured out what you’re going to say to Father?” I asked.
“More or less.”
I didn’t care for the sound of that. He was going to ask for my hand in marriage, for the Goddess’s sake. “And you’re going to do it soon?” I pressed.
“Sure.” He nodded vaguely. “I was thinking in a couple days.”
“All right.”
He finally seemed to notice my tone and blinked before looking up at me. “Right. Sorry.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’ve had a lot going on.”
“You’re going to ask him for me to be with you for the rest of our lives,” I urged him.
“Yes, I am.” He seemed irritated all of the sudden. “Can we move on?”
I stared at him across the table. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
I found myself blurting out the news about Alpha Alexander and his need to marry. When Liam barely reacted, I was going over the details: the king’s mandate, the reward, how Samantha had completely fallen apart.
Finally, I got a reaction. Liam sat up straighter. His eyes sharpened. The coffee mug stopped turning.
“Why is she upset?”
“Our parents say she’ll be the bride, but she’s refusing.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Samantha shouldn’t be sent to someone like Alexander. She wouldn’t survive that.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s, she’s delicate, Evelyn. A man like that would destroy her.”
I stared at him. Samantha was many things, but delicate was not one of them.
“Since when do you care about what happens to Samantha?”
Something flickered across his face. He smoothed it away. “She’s your stepsister. I’m just being considerate.”
In the entire year we’d been together, Liam
had never once shown this kind of concern for Samantha. He’d barely acknowledged her existence.
“Liam. Is there something going on that I don’t know about?”
“What? No. What would be going on?” He wasn’t looking at me again.
His phone buzzed against the table. He glanced at the screen and his posture slumped in obvious relief.
“I have to go.” He was already standing. “Something came up.”
“Liam, wait – “
“It’s urgent. I’ll talk to you later.”
He was out the door. No kiss. No backward glance. No promise of “later.”
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