Chapter nine - Don't touch me

I had gone back to the ballroom and instantly regretted it but I couldn't leave because Tessa and Naomi practically clung to me cause they thought I'd run off again. The ballroom felt like it was closing in on me.

Laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, but it all sounded distant—like I was hearing it through a tunnel. I stood between Naomi and Tessa, trying to keep my breathing calm. Trying to blend in. Trying not to look across the room… but failing.

Because I could feel their eyes on me.

Still and Unrelenting.

They hadn't moved from their spot since we all... talked. Three of them looking like hotshot models while staring straight at me. White button-downs clinging to their bodies like they were sewn onto their skin, Maddox's tie slightly crooked, Kyren jacket forgotten, Jaxon's hair damp from probably washing his face. All staring. No smirks. No jeers.

Just that look.

Like they knew me. Like they wanted me... like they yearned for me.

And Goddess help me, I hated that my heart responded.

“Hey,” Naomi nudged me gently. “You’re zoning again.”

“Sorry,” I muttered and snapped my eyes back to them. “I just… didn’t sleep well.”

Which wasn’t a total lie. How could I sleep after last night? After shifting for the first time? After realizing that I would find my mate to today and after finding out it's them, my mind is swirling.

I wasn’t ready.

I wasn’t okay.

And clearly, the Moon Goddess didn’t care.

“Daphne,” Tessa suddenly whispered, her eyes narrowing past me. “Oh no...”

Before I could ask, a familiar voice—one I’d prayed I wouldn’t hear tonight—cut through the air.

“Well, well, Hathaway. Didn’t know they let charity cases into events like this.”

I turned slowly. Arson. Arrogant. Rude. One of the pack's golden boy only because his parents were loaded. He looked me up and down with a sneer that twisted his already smug face.

“I see you scrubbed up nice,” he said, stepping closer. “But no matter how much glitter you pour on a mutt, it’s still a mutt.”

Tessa stepped forward. “Back off, Arson. Seriously. Go fuck yourself."

“Or what?” he scoffed, pushing past her. His hand latched onto my wrist, fingers digging in. I winced. “Didn’t say I was done talking to—”

It happened so fast, the air cracked.

A growl thundered from behind me, deep and primal, and the next thing I knew, Arson was flying backward.

I scented him before I saw him. Cool rain and smoke.

He moved so fast at werewolf speed. His hand was twisted tight around Arson’s wrist — no, arm — and the sickening snap that followed made my stomach churn.

Arson hit the ground, howling in pain, clutching his broken arm.

Maddox didn’t even look the least bit concerned.

His other arm wrapped around my waist, yanking me against his chest with a force that sent chills down my spine. His scent — cool rain and fire — hit me like a storm, and without thinking, I inhaled.

Warmth curled low in my stomach and I almost sighed in pleasure.

No.

No.

No no no.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch her again,” Maddox snarled, his voice low and lethal. “I won’t hesitate to break your second arm if I see you five feet near her.”

Arson whimpered, clutching his wrist. “S-sorry, Alpha…”

He scrambled up and bolted into the crowd.

The ballroom had gone silent.

Dozens of eyes stared at us. No one dared move.

I shoved Maddox’s chest with both hands but he only moved and inch but he let me break free from his grip, even though part of me screamed to stay there just a little longer.

“Don’t touch me,” I hissed, ignoring the way my pulse raced.

“Daphne—” his voice was hurt, eyes dark, chest heaving like he was barely keeping his wolf contained.

But I was already moving.

I ran for the third time that morning, heels clicking, pushing through stunned pack members, out the doors, down the hallway—until the cold air of the night hit my face. I ran until I found myself few feets away from my home. I guess the werewolf speed was kicking in.

My breath came in gasps.

Tears blurred my vision.

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be.

They couldn’t be mine.

And I sure as hell couldn’t be theirs.

Not after everything.

Not after what they’d done.

Not after who I’d been to them.

So why do I want to fall back into his arms again?