Chapter 41: Pretend.
June 20 2026, 1:04pm.
For the next couple of hours, Nyx’ara weaved through the dazzling crowd, perched on her husbands’ arms as if she belonged there.
After the whole encounter with Flynn, a few people who had overheard them had begun to whisper. They then told other people who told others and before you knew it, the entire hall was talking about it. Some praised Nyx’ara for being glamorous.
Some wondered why she was banished from her former pack.
While the others pitied her for losing her mate to her sister.
The rest of the crowd however, which were mostly people from the Stormborn pack, didn’t give a shit about her. To all of them, she was and will always be a monster whether she was mistreated or not.
Flynn spent the rest of the party feeling miserable and irritable. He could not take his eyes off Nyx’ara, not even once. He could not help but notice the way her dress clung to her body like a glove, and could not help but feel his Adam’s apple bob in jealousy when Rhys wrapped his arms around that slim waist he could only dream of holding.
"She could not have moved on so quickly, not after doting on me for so long!" He hissed under his breath as he took another swig of his wine. "Goddess, all of these shouldn’t be happening! She killed their sister!"
"Yes," Elara hissed, leaning down to whisper at a flushed-faced Flynn. "Yes, that is true. Ever since we walked in here and you started to drink like a sailor, that is the first reasonable thing you’ve said..."
He beamed a smile at her. "I know right?" He asked, but Elara, who was lost in her own thoughts, wasn’t really listening anymore.
Her mind was in chaos.
"I know..." she trailed off, her eyes casting a dark look at Nyx’ara who at the moment was now laughing at something a ginger-haired girl was saying to her. Her manicured hand was pressed against the girl’s arm and her eyes sparkled in a way Elara had never seen before.
She hissed; "Now, she gets manicures and facials. See how smooth her skin and hair have even become! I don’t think I hold a candle to her anymore!"
And that was true.
One of the reasons Elara thrived beautifully at the Moonshine pack was because she always made sure Nyx’ara downplayed her looks. Sometimes, she would intentionally ruin things for Nyx’ara by being petty and adding talc to her skincare, knowing full well that she was allergic to talc.
She had sabotaged her step-sister more times than she could count, and now, it had come as a shock that the said sister was dazzling.
She was making heads turn at this party and making Flynn drink to a stupor. And to make matters worse, she had tied the knot to not one but four of the biggest Alphas in their region.
’Such a lucky girl!’ Elara thought, her eyes turning red.
All her heavy planning and scheming had been a waste. She had made sure Nyx’ara took the fall hoping that it would seal her fate, but instead of being hanged on a pyke for murdering the princess, she was here exchanging vows and bearing marks.
Damn.
Nyx’ara, on the other hand, was absolutely torn. Her mind was chaotic. Her body was moving on autopilot. It was taking her quite a lot to glide through the halls as gracefully, but every now and then, she couldn’t help but feel the burn of eyes watching her.
And there were many people who would watch her around here.
She had just finished exchanging pleasantries with Jemima, the doctor, when Azriel leaned close to her. His breath was warm against her neck, tickling her in ways that sent shivers down to her core. His fingers flexed at the small of her back, playfully going lower and lower until he stopped himself before he could cup her butt.
He drawled; "Everyone has their eyes on you. You sure know how to stir up trouble."
She lifted her head to meet his cold eyes, but something in those eyes had shifted. Maybe it was the alcohol... maybe it was the close proximity but there was a warmth in his eyes that hadn’t been there moments ago.
His fingers burned her skin when he brushed off a stray tendril off her neck. He said: "Come."
Nyx’ara was skeptical. Truthfully, she just wanted to be as far from this place as possible. She was tired of putting on fake smiles while her entire body was ripping apart.
She whispered: "W-why?"
Azriel’s eyes met hers and held for a moment too long. He took her hands in his, brought them up to his lips, and murmured: "We have this uncle..."
An uncle? Nyx’ara gulped.
"Ever since our fathers died, the uncle has been trying so hard to rope himself back into this pack... but it isn’t just the pack he wants."
"H-he wants th-the company too?" She mumbled and at that, Azriel’s eyes flashed with admiration.
"How do you know that?"
Truthfully? It was just a wild guess. Nyx’ara had read so many books, even technical books, recipes, manuals, non-fiction and fiction that she could come up with anything.
Her cheeks burned as she explained this to him. But she couldn’t help but notice the darkness that crept into his eyes as soon as she mentioned the word: "Library."
He drawled; "He thinks we are paying you to stand in as our bride. He doesn’t believe that we could fall in love with you."
With someone like you— without connections, without class. All she had was a beautiful face and sass.
In understanding, Nyx’ara nodded. "O-okay. So-so what do-do y-you want me to-to do? Do yo-you want me to-to pre-pretend to-to be doting and—"
"I want you to pretend that you had snuck off with one or two of us into the bathroom. I want you to pretend like we went in for a quickie. Wolves into each other always want to go at it anywhere." He rushed out, and for a moment, Nyx’ara was stunned into silence.
She stared at the man in front of her like she couldn’t quite believe her ears, and then she tiptoed as if to try to smell the booze in his mouth.
He was perfectly fine.
"A-alpha, do-do you ha-have epi-episodes?" She asked softly, afraid.
Azriel frowned. "Episodes?" He asked, and when she nodded, he continued; "Episodes of what?"
"Ma-madness." She rushed out, refusing to look at him. "I-if not, w-why would you as-ask me to-to do som-something so absurd?"
"Will you do it or do we have to cook up something far better?" Azriel hissed at her, causing her breath to hitch in her chest.
She wanted to say no. To defile him there and then. But the look in his eyes gave no room for excuses and she found herself sneaking out of the hall with his fingers laced in hers.
A moment later, they walked into a bathroom stall, and as soon as they did, Azriel shoved her hard against the wall, pressed her into it, and slammed his lips on hers.