#Chapter 3: The Pull

Luckily, Richard’s instincts were razor-sharp. The second Jenny stepped into the room, we returned to a normal, painfully platonic distance, like nothing had just happened. Like he hadn’t nearly sent me into cardiac arrest over a zipper.

Before Jenny could even get a word out, Richard’s voice cut through the room like a whip.

“Jenny, did you send this girl in here to change for your ball?”

Jenny blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah. My room’s a disaster. The good-for-nothing closet hand hasn’t cleared out last season’s fashion graveyard yet.”

My eyes swept the room again.

Oh. Oh no.

This wasn’t just any guest room, this was Richard’s room.

Suddenly, the air felt tighter in my lungs. Something about realizing I’d been half-naked in his private space made my skin crawl with a kind of embarrassment I couldn’t shake. My heart knocked against my ribs.

“I don’t appreciate you sending your friends into my space just because you have an aversion to wearing a single item of clothing more than once,” Richard said sharply.

Jenny rolled her eyes. “That’s not the point, Dad. I didn’t know you were already here. I was literally just on the phone with you. If you had just told me you were here, this wouldn’t have happened!”

I felt a stab of guilt. “I should’ve checked before walking in,” I muttered. “I should’ve—”

But I knew it was irrational. Richard never actually got mad at Jenny. Not really. I’d seen her get away with far worse.

Jenny, of course, pivoted the second she remembered I was still standing there. “And Amelia isn’t just ‘one of my friends,’” she said, clearly annoyed. “She’s my best friend. You’ve seen her, like, several times.”

Richard looked at me again, really looked.

His posture shifted slightly, like something just clicked. “Oh. You… you’re Amelia.”

Richard

When I first saw her, all I saw was another excuse. Another woman angling for proximity, for power, for a photo to post.I didn’t buy a word she said, and I didn’t care to.

Until I did.

Until she turned toward me, and I got a proper look at her face. And something inside me… shifted.

My wolf stirred, Storm. He was always louder when I least wanted him to be.

"That’s her," Storm growled inside of me. "That’s our second chance."

It didn’t make sense, there was no obvious mate pull. No lightning bolt of clarity. It was nothing like the first time. But the longer I stood there, the louder Storm became.

When she asked me to help zip her dress, I ignored the voice in my head. I told myself it was a mistake, a glitch, some residual pheromone confusion.

"Touch her," Storm hissed. "You’ll see."

I did and I felt it. It was faint, but there. The first whisper of a bond. And then I saw it, the mark of another bond already in place.

“She’s taken”, I spat to Storm bitterly.

"But wrong," Storm insisted. "It’s not real. Not like us."

Sometimes, I could sense mate bonds in others. And hers? It was weak. Like a radio station barely tuned. The frequency was all wrong. Still, it was enough to confuse me. And infuriate me.

“This isn’t how this works,” I told my wolf.

"But it is," Storm countered. "You just don’t want it to be."

I looked at her again. Really looked.

The same dress she’d seemed to loathe in the mirror? I could’ve worshipped her in it. Her skin flushed from the heat, the neckline skimming just beneath her collarbone, the way the fabric dipped over her waist, hugged her hips. Every instinct I had screamed to pull her closer.

“Don’t.” I warned myself.

"You want to. She’s right there. She smells like—"

Enough.

Storm growled low in the back of my mind, sulking. Then came the realization. My second chance mate… was my daughter’s best friend.

I wanted to laugh. Or punch something. I’d been through the painful dissolving of the first bond, the pain of seperation. And now—now fate offered me this? A tether to someone I was absolutely not allowed to want?

"You going to run from this too?" Storm said, quieter now.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My hands were clenched at my sides. My jaw tight.

I couldn’t decide if I was angrier at myself or the universe. Storm surged inside me with all the urgency of a siren. And for the first time in years, I didn’t know what to do.

My second chance. My daughter’s best friend.

And all I could do is watch them walk away together.

Amelia

Jenny looked at me with the expression she always made when she was about to ask a favor without really asking.

“I lost one of the serving girls,” she said with a sigh. “Mitchell sort of made her an offer she couldn’t refuse…”

I knew what she was doing.

“I’ll go,” I said before she had to actually ask.

Jenny lit up like I’d just handed her a glass of champagne. She looped her arm through mine and said, “You’re the best. I’ll make sure everyone tips you big.”

The ballroom was buzzing when I walked in, but one face stopped me in my tracks.

Adam.

Standing beside Jenny. Smiling, laughing, leaning in like they shared every inside joke in the world.

I paused, just for a second.

Of course they were close. They’d known each other nearly as long as I’d known her. But still. I felt something twist in my stomach. Something sharp. But I pushed it down. It didn’t mean anything.

Still, I couldn’t shake the image of how good they looked side-by-side.

I grabbed a tray of drinks and started making my way through the crowd. Every time I passed their table, I felt invisible. Like a ghost in an apron. I hated that I wasn’t sitting next to him, wasn’t laughing with him. Wasn’t even acknowledged.

The lights were too bright. My feet hurt. Someone snapped at me for champagne, and I wanted to scream.

Then I felt a hand on mine.

“Are you wolfless?”

The guy was flushed, sweaty. Drunk.

Blond hair. Aggressive jawline. Button-down shirt opened too far. He looked like his name might be Chad. Or Logan. Or Ford. Something that came with a yacht and a smug smirk.

“I heard you guys get drunk faster,” he said. “Is that true?”

His hand slid down my back. Too far down my back. “C’mon. Have a drink with me.”

“I’m working,” I said, stiffening.

“Don’t be rude. You want to embarass me in front of my friends?”

I looked toward Adam. Nothing. He was talking to Jenny, laughing like I wasn’t there.

Jenny stepped in. “Hey, Amelia’s helping me out. Don’t be rude.”

He leaned down and whispered something to her.

Jenny turned to me. “Okay, awkward, but—he says he didn’t mean anything. And he’s willing to tip you really well. Like, ridiculously well. If you just have one drink.”

I blinked. “Seriously?”

Jenny gave me a sheepish look. “You’re always saying you need rent money. I told him to make it worth your time.”

I really did need the money if I was going to pay my rent this month.

My mouth was dry. “Fine. One.”

The drink he handed me wasn’t wine. It was dark. Bitter. Strong. I coughed but kept it down. My vision fuzzed slightly.

He smirked. “Not bad, right?”

He poured another. “Double this time.”

“I really shouldn’t—”

“Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.”

I hesitatedand his hand was back on my waist, lingering too long. I drank.

It burned, and this time, the haze came faster. My limbs went heavy, my thoughts slowed.

He leaned in again. “You know, you’d be a lot prettier if you smiled.”

I blinked hard, tried to step back.

“Where are you going? I’m being nice. No need to play hard to get.”

He reached for another shot. My head spun and I lifted the shot glass. That’s when a hand wrapped firmly around my wrist.

Richard.

His grip was like iron. His expression? Fury.

And suddenly, I could breathe again.