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Chapter 807
publish date:
2025-05-21 18:00:28"Isn't it because I missed you? Tabitha, same as always tonight, okay?"
"Forget it. I've got a patient to tend to."
"What patient could be more important than me?" His voice carried a whine.
Derek ground his molars. "Same as always"—what on earth did that mean?
He'd steeled himself countless times for the possibility that Tabitha had moved on, but now, confronted with reality, he knew heartache like never before.
It mirrored the icy dread he'd felt whe
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The reason Derek had downed that drink without a second thought was because, as the Alpha of the Black Thorn Pack, he had his own ways of dealing with things.Back in her room, Misha was so excited she could barely stand. The thought that Derek would finally be hers in a matter of moments sent a surge of adrenaline through her.She quickly changed into a piece of delicate lace lingerie she'd been saving, her curves hauntingly visible in the moonlight.Still, she remained cautious. She was terrified that if Derek were fully sober and saw her face, he might reject her.After weighing her options, she cut all the lights.Darkness was the perfect catalyst; between the alcohol and the drug, as long as he couldn't see her clearly, his primal instincts would take over.Once tonight was over, it would be a done deal.Misha let out a wild, triumphant laugh as she imagined waking up tomorrow and announcing her relationship with Derek to all of
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Derek discreetly sniffed the liquid in his glass. It was a top-shelf single malt, the heavy peat and alcohol masking any subtle inconsistencies.He caught Tabitha's eye, and they downed their drinks at the same time.Across the room, Misha saw Derek empty his glass, and a smile bloomed on her face like a opening flower."Misha, what's got you looking so happy?" Bentley asked, sliding over like a piece of gum you can't kick off your shoe.The smile vanished instantly. Misha turned stone-cold. "Nothing. None of your business."To be honest, Misha wasn't even Bentley's type. But to gain a foothold in the Holmes family, he had to force himself to suck up to this arrogant brat.After being rejected over and over, his patience was hitting a breaking point. A dark, predatory glint flashed in his eyes."Misha, why won't you just look at what's right in front of you?"Bentley lowered his voice, his tone suggestive. "You've chased him fo
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Under the cover of the ballroom music, a faint, hidden blush crept onto Tabitha's cheeks.It felt strange. In all the time they'd known each other, this was probably their first time actually dancing together in a formal setting.Derek didn't hide his intentions, wrapping his arm firmly around her waist and pulling her close, while her hand naturally found its place against his solid chest.They were parents to several children, yet in this moment, their hearts were racing like two teenagers in over their heads.Tabitha could feel a light sweat on Derek's broad palm—the most honest sign of a werewolf's physical arousal when facing his true mate.Misha, meanwhile, was standing on the sidelines, literally shaking with rage as her carefully laid plans turned to dust.Bentley saw his opening and moved in, trying to sound like a gentleman. "Misha, may I have this dance?""No," Misha snapped, not even bothering to look at him.
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Cyrus pulled a cigarette from his pocket but didn't light it. He just flipped it irritably between his fingers, a look of pure, untamable frustration on his face. "I'm not looking to get married," he snapped."You're in your thirties, Cyrus. When exactly were you planning on starting?"Bonnie shot him a look. "Look at Derek. He already had—well, regardless, you're trying a girl out tonight. No excuses.""Women are nothing but trouble," Cyrus scoffed. Yet, for some reason, Tabitha's cold, stubborn face flashed in his mind."What trouble? Just go! These ladies have the bloodlines and the degrees to match yours. This is an order from your father. When the dancing starts, you pick a partner."Cyrus tossed the unlit cigarette, his eyes dark. "This sucks."He scanned the room. Every socialite in high-fashion silk felt her heart skip a beat when his gaze passed over her.Being the heir to the Holmes family meant he had the kind of powe
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Cyrus could feel how tense Tabitha was. He pulled his hand back quickly. "Sorry. It just seemed like a mob back there."Tabitha stepped away, putting some distance between them. "It's fine. I get it. You should go take care of your guests, Mr. Holmes. Don't worry about me.""Just be careful. If you need anything, find me," Cyrus said, giving her one last look before heading off.He rubbed his thumb and index finger together, still feeling the sensation of her skin. "Are all women that soft?"A strange, restless energy started to stir inside him, like a slow-burning fire he couldn't quite place.The dinner kicked off with about thirty guests. Everyone was talking in low, polite voices.A few people stopped to pay their respects to Lycan Algernon before taking their seats.Bonnie was glued to Algernon's side, wearing that perfect, graceful smile she always showed the world.If it weren't for the whole Truman disaster, Tabitha never would have seen the dark side behind that mask.Cyrus w
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Bently's pursuit of power was nothing but blunt. His fawning over Michelle was a mirror image of Michelle's obsession with Derek. But a lowly "clinger" would never catch the eye of the proud.Michelle gave Bentley a dismissive glance, letting out a half-hearted "Thanks" that barely counted as a response.The word had barely left her mouth before she was hiking up her skirt and scurrying toward Derek.Bentley froze, his fists clenching until his knuckles popped beneath his sleeves.Derek stood there in a sharp, pitch-black suit, his face partially obscured by his signature silver mask. He looked like a high-ranking Alpha who had just stepped out of the abyss—mysterious, cold, and utterly unattainable. He drew the repressed, burning stares of every female in the room."Derek!" Michelle called out gleefully, fluttering toward him like a butterfly desperate for attention.From not far, Tabitha swirled her champagne, a mocking smile playing
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Third person's POV"Dad, the
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