CHAPTER 7

MIRA’S POV

The feast was still going on, but I was not there.

I was sitting at the table with my hands in my lap and my eyes were fixed on the plate in front of me, and I could not remember the last time I had blinked because every time I looked up, I saw him. Ronan. The stranger from the club. The man who had made love to me in a hotel room just hours ago. He was sitting at the same table, talking to Declan like they were old friends, and I could not breathe.

Claudia said something to me from across the table, something sharp about my duties and my responsibility and the need for an heir, and I nodded and smiled and said nothing because my mind was still stuck on the way his hands had felt on my skin, the way his breathe had been hot against my neck and the way he had whispered in the dark. I could still feel him. I could still remember his scent. And now he was here, in my home, eating at my table, and Declan had no idea.

I pushed my food around my plate without eating it. My hands were trembling and my heart was pounding so loudly I was sure someone would hear it. Everytime I tried to focus on the conversation, my mind would drift to him again, and everytime our eyes met, I felt a jolt of something electric and terrifying and completely impossible to ignore.

After what felt like hours, I could not take it anymore. I excused myself, saying I was not feeling well, and walked out of the dining hall before anyone could notice I am gone.

I hurried to my room and locked the door.

Then I leaned against it and let out a breath that I had been holding since the moment I had seen his face.

I picked up my phone and called Zara and she answered on the second ring.

“I am in trouble,” I said. “Please. I am coming to meet you now. I need your advice.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Zara said. “You are not making sense. What is going on?”

“I will explain everything when I get there.”

Then I ended the call and changed quickly into something dark and simple, and I slipped out of the pack house through a side door I knew the servants used. The chilly night air hit my face, sharp and fierce, and I walked fast without my head down until I reached the edge of the territory where Zara’s boutique sat like a small sanctuary.

She was already waiting for me at the door.

“Get inside,” she said. “Now.”

I followed her in and sat down on the small couch near the window. Then she closed the door and looked at me with concern etched across her face.

“Okay. Talk to me,” she said.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out at first because the words were stuck somewhere deep in my chest, tangled up with the panic and fear and the confusion I had been carrying all night.

“The man from the club,” I said finally. “The one I spent the night with.”

Zara nodded slowly. “Yes….?”

“It is Ronan.”

She blinked and shook her head. “Ronan who? Am I supposed to know him?”

“The stranger is Declan’s best friend and he is here, Zara. He came to visit Declan. I saw him tonight. I saw his face and he greeted me.” My voice cracked. “The man I slept with is my husband’s best friend.”

Zara stared at me for a long moment. And then she bursted into laughter.

Not loudly or mocking. Just a low, disbelieving sound that escaped her lips before she could stop it.

I blinked and asked, “what is so funny?”

“This is so unnatural,” Zara said, shaking her head. “The first time you go to a club, you end up spending the night with your husband’s best friend, who happens to be visiting him and staying in the pack house? What kind of joke is the Moon Goddess playing with you right now? What kind of twist is this?”

“Zara, this is not funny.”

“I can bet the Moon Goddess is definitely laughing at you right now.”

I felt heer rise up to my cheeks and spluttered as I tried to defend my self. “I did not know who he was. I was drunk and I was hurting so bad. And now he is here and I do not know what to do.” My voice cracked again. “I can not breathe. I am so scared, Zara.”

Zara’s face softened instantly and she hurried to sit beside me, so close that I could feel the warmth of her presence.

“Okay,” she said and clapped her hands together. “Okay. Listen to me. You are going to act like nothing happened.”

I stared at her. “Are you sure about that?”

“Trust me. Act like nothing happened. Infact, act like you are not even the person who was at that club last night.”

“I think it is a little too late for that,” I said. “He saw the shock on my face when he stepped out of his car. He saw me recognize him.”

“Okay, no problem,” she said. “You just still have to act like nothing happened from now on. That is the only way.”

I swallowed. “What if he tries to talk to me?”

Zara leaned back and studied me carefully. “Then you talk to him. But you do not break. You do not run. Mira, you hold your ground. You look him in the eye and remind him that this is not a thing that is happening. You both agreed — one time. No names. No strings. And that night is over.”

“And what if he does not see it that way?”

Zara reached over and squeezed my hand gently. “You are stronger than you think. You survived three years of Declan. You can survive this.”

I looked down at our joined hands and let it a long shaky breath. I was not sure I believed her, but I knew I had no choice but to try.

Then Zara looked at me, hesitated for a moment, and said, “but tell me one thing. And just be honest with me. One thing.”

I tilted my head to look at her and asked, “what?”

Zara bit her lip. “Was it good? I mean….. was Ronan…. you know… good?”

I blinked. Then I felt intense heat rush to my cheeks. “Zara. Are you asking me if the man I slept with was good in bed?”

She grinned. “I just want to know if it was worth it. If you feel guilty or….or proud.”

I stared at her for a long moment. Then I looked away, with my cheeks burning.

“Well….” I whispered. “It was the best I have had in a long time.”

Zara’s jaw dropped. Then she burst out laughing and shook her head.

“Oh, girl,” she said. “You are in trouble.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you are in deep, deep trouble.” She pointed at me. “You just slept with your husband’s best friend, you said it was the best you have hand in a long time, and now he is staying in your pack house. You are not just in trouble — you are in a whole mess.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out.

Because she was right.

Then Zara stood up and stretched. “But do not worry. We will figure this out together. For now, go home. Act normal. And try not to think about how good he was.”

I groaned and buried my face in my hands.