Chapter Twelve: Tea Shopping

Genevieve Everhart’s POV

The first morning after my divorce felt surprisingly ordinary. There’s no overwhelming sense of freedom. Neither devastating heartbreak waiting to greet me the moment I opened my eyes.

Just sunlight spilling through the curtains, birds chirping somewhere outside my apartment, and Nyx grumbling because I had rolled over the bed over one too many times during the night.

You snore.

“I do not.”

You absolutely do, loud I thought it was earthquake.

“I, I breathe. Just aggressively,” I denied.

You drool too.

“I liked you better when you’re questioning Nathan.”

Nyx immediately went quiet.

“Thought so,” I scoffed.

I pushed myself upright and stretched, only to freeze when my eyes landed on the empty side of the bed. For years, waking up meant instinctively checking whether Nathan had already left for training or if he’d fallen asleep beside me after another late-night council meeting.

Now there was nothing, no lingering scent of cedarwood the moment I open my eyes. No neatly folded jacket draped over the chair. No watch forgotten on the nightstand because he had been rushing out the door.

You’re thinking too much, just once can you not.

“Leave me if you don’t want that,” I said.

Not like I can. Go eat.

“I just woke up.”

Exactly.

I chuckled under my breath before making my way toward the kitchen. The apartment was quieter than what I am used to for years, but it wasn’t lonely, it was peaceful.

As the coffee machine hummed to life, my phone buzzed against the counter.

Nathan.

I stared at the screen for three rings before answering.

“Hello?”

“Good morning,” he said, his voice sounded rough, as though he hadn’t slept much.

“What do you need,” I responded.

An awkward silence then settled between us.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked.

“Nope, I’ve been awake.”

“I just wanted to remind you about Saturday.”

“I remember,” I uttered.

“I wasn’t sure if–”

“I said I’d come, how many times do I have to say that,” I snapped.

“Right…”

He then cleared his throat and then continued, “Mom bought another dress for you.”

I frowned before responding, “I’ll buy one myself, better keep it.”

“She insisted, and if you don’t accept it, I might actually be kicked out. The one I brought yesterday was thrown away, just take it this time.”

Of course she did.

“I’ll send someone to drop it off,” he said.

“You don’t have to.”

“It’s already on the way,” he countered.

I sighed then said, “Then thank your mother for me.”

“I will.”

I was about to end the call when Nathan spoke and said, “Genevieve.”

“Hm? Anything else?” I probed.

“Thank you.”

The words caught me off guard.

“For what?” I raised my eyebrow.

“For still coming, you know,” he answered.

I looked out the kitchen window, watching a pair of children race across the apartment courtyard below.

“I’m not doing it for you,” I defended.

“I know.”

“I’m doing it for your father, don’t think much about it.”

“Yes, of course.” His voice softened then continued his statement, “He’ll be happy you’re there.”

I swallowed the lump that unexpectedly formed in my throat, “I’ll be there.”

“See you, Genevieve.”

I wasted no time and disconnected the line then placed my phone on the counter, as I stared into my coffee for a bit before Nyx out of nowhere spoke.

That was weird.

“Definitely weird,” I mumbled.

He’s trying to win you back, it’s obvious.

“I’m well aware about that.” I took a sip from my coffee.

Too late, right?

I scoffed and closed my eyes, “Too late.”

An hour later, the dress arrived. It was brought by a young pack member of Whitmore. He handed me over a large white garment bag before leaving almost immediately. Curious, I carried it into the bedroom and unzipped it.

Inside hung a beautiful champagne-colored evening gown.

Exactly Luna Eleanor’s taste.

A small handwritten note rested on the hanger.

My dear Seraphina,

I know you’ll tell me you already have something to wear, but indulge this old woman one last time.

Love, Mother Eleanor

My chest tightened upon reading the word mother. I smiled sadly before brushing my thumb across the elegant handwriting. And I scoffed once again as my sight landed on the gown. She’s one of the people I appreciated in the pack but after what happened yesterday? I don’t even know if what I appreciated before were all sincere.

I shook off the thought in my mind because, knowing her, it definitely isn’t her behind this. Someone must’ve tampered with it. It’s definitely not her.

I turned the gown slightly and examined the fabric.

I sniffed once again and smiled bitterly, “Of course, it’s one of their tricks.”

The scent was fainter than what was used yesterday but it was the same smell. It was almost completely hidden beneath expensive perfume sprayed over the gown but it was there.

I carefully zipped the garment bag shut again. Whoever had handled the dress after Luna Eleanor packed it had plans to mess me up on the birthday gathering.

A slow smile spread across my face, “So.”

Nyx’s ears perked.

You’re plotting.

“Maybe.”

I love that, you go slay that.

“If someone wanted me to wear this,” I started and smirked.

“Perhaps someone else would appreciate it more.”

Nyx let out a delighted laugh inside my head.

You’re a badass.

“I learned from the best.”

I decided to go shopping by noon, something far less suspicious. It’s not like I’m really going to wear that dress.

The boutique downtown buzzed with quiet conversations and soft jazz instrumental music. Racks of elegant gowns lined the polished floors while employees in the shop moved between costumers with their usual smiles.

I wandered around, slowly through the displays, trailing my fingers over different fabrics.

“This one suits your complexion.”

A familiar voice came from behind me, and I instantly turned.

And froze.

Standing beside a display of evening gowns, dressed in a charcoal suit that looked effortlessly expensive and looked specifically tailored for his broad shoulders and tiny waist, was Damien Valecrest.

He blinked once and tilted his head slightly on his right.

“Good afternoon, my lady.”

I stared at him suspiciously.

“Are you following me?”

His eyebrows lifted in genuine surprise, “No.”

“Really?” I grinned.

“I was buying tea.” He looked away.

I looked around the luxury dress boutique.

“I see, Tea…”

He followed my gaze then glanced toward the elegant shopping bags hanging from his wrist.

“In hindsight, that sounds unlikely.”

Despite how awkward it was, I laughed a little. And then his silver eyes out of nowhere shined for a second, I even blinked to confirm what I saw, but maybe I was seeing things.

Fenrir is wagging his tail.

Who was wagging his tail? His wolf?!