Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

15 Chapter 15

Seraphina’s POV 1

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 sceping through the walls. |

stared at Damien in disbelief, unable to process

what | 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 moments before. This was the voice of an Alpha passing judgment, and | was clearly the one

being judged.

“Damien, you can’t seriously believe-" | started, but he cutoff with a sharp gesture.

“Answer the question, Seraphina.” My non his lips sounded like an accusation now. “Is Adrian Gabriel's

son?”

way he'd The betrayal hitlike a physical blow. After everything we’d shared today-the mate bond crackling

between us, the defendedagainst Valerie, the gentle way he’d asked about Adrian in the car-he was ready to

believe the worst ofbased on the word of a woman he'd literally thrown out of his office hours earlier.

“You want to know the truth?” My voice cout steadier than | felt, though my hands were shaking with fury

and heartbreak. “The truth is that Adrian's father is someone disappeared before dawn without even leaving his

nfive years ago.”

Damien's expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes-confusion, maybe even recognition. But

it was gone so quickly |

might have imagined it.

“Gabriel was never Adrian's father,” | 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 me. But he never touched me,

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 ofwith five years

of suppressed rage behind them. “She did the sthing towhen | was eighteen-humiliatedin front of

everyone, madefeel like | was nothing,

like | deserved every horrible thing that happened to me.””

The entire restaurant was still watching our unfold like it was better than cable television. | could see

phones being discreetly raised, could practically hear the gossip spreading through the werewolf social networks

in real time. By tomorrow, every pack from

here to the Canadian border would know about the omega 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 atlike | was a stranger he was trying to identify in a police lineup.

“You know what?” | 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 | sure as hell

don’t need approval from someone who's ready to believe gossip over his own mate.”

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just minutes ago but now felt like a chain around my

“Keep it,” he said. “You'll catch pneumonia.”

“I'd rather freeze than wear anything of yours,” | 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 toldexactly how shocking my rejection appeared to

the watching crowd. Apparently, omega women didn’t refuse Alpha generosity in public. Well, there was a first

tfor everything.

Without another word, | turned and walked toward the exit with my head held high, fighting the urge to run like

the scared girl | 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 | was safely away from all those judging eyes.

The cool night air hit my wine-soaked dress like a slap, makingshiver immediately. “Well, that went

spectacularly,” Ayla muttered in my mind, her mental voice dripping with sarcasm.

The elegant heels that had madefeel so confident this morning were now instruments of torture, digging into

my feet with every step and makingwobble dangerously on the uneven sidewalk. After two blocks of misery,

| finally gave up and stopped to slip them off, not caring that | 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. | gathered

up the skirt of my ruined dress and continued walking, letting my feet takewherever they wanted to go as

long as it was away from that restaurant and the man who'd so quickly lost faith in me.

“Why does this always happen?” | whispered to the empty street, tears finally beginning to spill down my cheeks

now that | was alone. “Why do | keep believing that someone might actually want me, might actually choose

me?”

I'd walked about six blocks when headlights suddenly illuminated the street behind me, followed by the sharp

beep of a car horn. | stepped closer to the parked cars lining the sidewalk, assuming the driver just wantedto

get out of the way, but the vehicle slowed to a crawl and pulled up beside me.

The headlights were bright enough to makesquint, throwing everything beyond them into shadow. Then the

driver's side window rolled down, and a voice called out:

“Miss? Are you alright?”

| recognized him immediately. 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 | needed right now was pity from

one of Damien’s circle.

“I'm fine,” | called back, not slowing my pace. “Just getting sair.”

“With no shoes?” There was genuine concern in his voice, not the mocking tone I'd expected. “Look, | saw what

happened back there. That was a really shitty situation, and I'm sorry you had to deal with it.”

| stopped walking, partly because my feet were starting to bleed and partly because his unexpected kindness

caughtoff guard. “Thank you, but | don’t need-"

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“Your feet are bleeding” he said simply, and when I looked down, | could see dark spots on the concrete where

I'd been walking. “Look, |

know we don't really know each other, but | can’t just drive past and leave you walking barefoot through

downtown. At least letgive

you a ride somewhere safe.”

| studied his face in the glow of the dashboard lights. He was handsin a more approachable way than

Damien-sandy brown hair, warm hazel eyes, and a smile that seemed genuine rather than calculated.

“I don’t want to impose.” | said carefully, still maintaining my distance from the car.

He interrupted with a slight smile. “I make my own decisions about who | help and why. And right now, I'm

deciding to help someone

who's had a really horrible night.”

The sincerity in his voice, combined with the increasing pain in my feet and the reality that | had nowhere else to

go, finally broke down

my resistance.

“Okay,” | said quietly, hobbling around to the passenger side. “Thank you.”