I sat alone in the parlor as the light faded. I thought about the selfies on Samantha’s phone and Liam’s sudden concern for her. I remembered how cold he’d been and that phone call he’d been so grateful to receive.
Each piece could be explained away on its own. Together, they wouldn’t stop gnawing at me.
You’re being paranoid, I told myself. Liam loves you. He chose you.
But the doubt wouldn’t go away.
* * *
I tried to sleep that night. I couldn’t.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the blurry profile photo on Samantha’s screen. I replayed every moment of the day: the way Samantha had grabbed her phone off the floor, Liam’s eyes going sharp at the mention of Alexander’s marriage, not because of Alexander, but because of Samantha. The wrong date. The phone call.
Just past midnight, I threw back the covers.
I would go to Samantha’s room, look her in the eye, and ask her who she’d been texting. If there were an innocent explanation, I’d hear it and move on.
The hallway was dark and silent. The servants
had long since retired. Her door was ajar. Warm lamplight spilled through the crack.
I heard them before I saw them. A woman’s breathless giggle. A man’s low voice. The rustle of sheets.
My hand found the door. I pushed it open.
In the dim light, Samantha was tangled in the sheets with a man. His back was to me, shoulders bare. At the creak of the door, he turned his head.
Yes, of course. It was Liam.
[Evelyn’s POV]
I don’t know how long I stood there.
Samantha recovered first. She always did. She didn’t scramble or panic. She sat up, pushed her hair behind one ear, and looked at me with a calm, satisfied expression.
“You really should learn to knock,” she said.
My eyes were on Liam. He’d sat up on the edge of the bed, jaw tight, staring at the floor. Not guilty. Just annoyed, as though I were the inconvenience.
“Explain.” My voice came out raw. “Liam. Explain this to me.”
He sighed. “I was going to tell you in a few days.”
“Tell me what?”
“When I go to your father, I’ll be asking for Samantha’s hand, not yours.”
I put a hand on the doorframe and told
myself not to sway in my disbelief.
“How long?” I heard myself ask. “How long has this been going on?”
Liam didn’t answer.
“Long enough,” Samantha said with a smug giggle.
“Samantha is the kind of Alpha daughter a Luna should be,” Liam said as though reciting something he’d practiced. “Refined. Elegant. If she hadn’t turned me down before, I would never have come to you in the first place.”
He never loved me.
A year of my life. All the planning sessions, the crop reforms, the trade connections I’d built on his behalf, the work that had tripled his pack’s revenue: none of it had mattered. I was the backup, the one he’d settled for while waiting for Samantha to change her mind.
“You used me,” I said.
Liam finally looked at me. “I needed an alliance with your pack. You were available. Don’t make it more dramatic than it needs to
be.”
Samantha leaned against his arm and looked at me.
“You want to know your biggest problem, Evelyn?” Her voice was sweet and sharp. “You kept insisting on saving yourself for your wedding night. You thought that was noble.” She glanced at Liam. “Men don’t want noble, sweetheart. They want someone who knows what she’s doing.”
Liam said nothing. He didn’t even shift.
I wanted to scream. But I would not break in front of them.
“You’ll both regret this,” I said. My voice was hoarse but steady. “Everything Liam’s pack achieved this year, the revenue, the growth, the trade routes, that was my work, not his. And certainly not yours.”
Samantha laughed. She didn’t believe a word. She should remember I don’t lie.
“What’s going on here?” Isabella demanded, and I turned to see her standing in the hall. Our little conversation had been loud enough
to draw an audience, and when she looked behind me to the scene on the bed, she didn’t bother to feign surprise.
Yeah, of course she knew.
My father came next. He stood in the hallway and surveyed the scene with his usual cold expression. No shock. No anger at Liam. No sympathy for me.
“Well,” he said after a long silence. “This simplifies things.”
“Oh?” I managed to sound casual. I don’t know how.
“Since this is how things stand, the arrangements will change. Liam will marry Samantha.” He looked at me.
“As for you, Evelyn. You will accept the King’s offer. You will marry Alexander.”
The blood left my face. “No. Absolutely not.”
“This isn’t a discussion.”
“You can’t just hand me over to a man who – “
“Think about Edward.”
I went still as images of him flashed through my mind: his pale face on the clean white pillow, his limp, defenseless body so thin under the sheet.
“What about Edward?” My voice was barely a whisper.
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