chapter 8: The annual Orion Foundation fundraiser

Orion – POV

The Silver House never left my mind.

Even after returning to my suite, showering, and changing into fresh clothes, I still felt the weight of my uncle’s voice pressing down on my chest.

> “If that Alpha even sniffs the truth, I’ll put you back in the box I found you in.”

And with the taught and fear of that statement, I drifted to sleep.

.

.

I sat at my desk the next morning, staring at a blank screen. The numbers and reports I was supposed to be reviewing meant nothing. My mind wouldn’t stop repeating those words. That warning.

A knock at the door. Nora stepped in with her usual grace, holding a cup of tea and a small folder.

“Your schedule, sir,” she said softly.

I nodded, taking the tea. I didn’t look at the folder.

Nora hesitated. “Your scent blocker formula is running low. I placed an order for more.”

My jaw tightened. “Double the order. And increase the dosage of the injectables. I don’t want any mistakes.”

Her lips parted slightly, but she didn’t argue. “Of course.”

She closed the door gently behind her.

Alone again, I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out the suppressants. One more shot. Just one more. I pressed the needle against my skin and forced the contents in, even though I knew it was making me sick, weaker.

I couldn’t let anyone smell the truth. Especially him.

---

By Thursday, Nora handed me a notice I’d been dreading:

> “The annual Orion Foundation fundraiser will be held this weekend, at the Silver House. Attendance mandatory.”

Mandatory?

I sighed. I was expected to smile, greet, speak to investors. Pretend to be the confident heir they thought I was.

That night, I stood in front of the mirror. My suit hung perfectly. My hair was combed back. Scent blockers on my neck and wrists.

But my eyes..

They looked tired. Like I hadn’t truly slept in years.

---

The ballroom was warm, crowded, and full of too much perfume.

I moved through it like a statue. Shaking hands, offering polite nods. Always with that rehearsed smile.

It was loud, and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about how quiet my heart had become. How numb I felt.

Until something shifted.

No one said his name. No one needed to.

I felt him walk in.

My whole body suddenly became weak.

Cassian.

His presence pressed against my back like a tide. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to.

My wolf, weak and sedated as it was, stirred. It clawed faintly at my chest like it recognized something.

My hands gripped the edges of the champagne glass tighter.

I couldn’t breathe.

I whispered to Nora, excused myself, and made my way through the heavy curtains onto the side balcony.

The air was cold out there, but at least it was quiet.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall back against the stone pillar.

I stayed there a long time. Long enough for my nerves to settle. Long enough for the tension in my chest to loosen.

Until I heard the door creak.

Footsteps.

I didn’t look. I already knew who it was.

I tried to stay calm. I had to.

His voice was low when he finally spoke. “You look like you’re suffocating.”

I didn’t answer

I wanted him to leave.

But part of me didn’t.

“I know what that feels like,” he said. “To hide behind roles. To wear a title that doesn’t match what you are.”

My fingers dug into the stone railing.

“You don’t know me,” I said.

He stepped closer. I could feel the shift in the air.

“I don’t,” he admitted. “But my wolf keeps reacting to you. And it’s been quiet for a long time.”

His words made my chest tighten. I turned toward him slowly, trying not to flinch under his gaze.

“You’re imagining things,” I said. “I have no connection with your wolf ”

His expression didn’t change.

“I didn’t say you had. I said I needed to know.”

And that terrified me more than anything.

Because my wolf wanted to know, too.