CHAPTER 3

Elaine followed Robert inside, no doubt prepared to give him a piece of her mind regarding his icy reception of Willow’s guest. Evan, meanwhile, slung a heavy arm over Willow’s shoulder as they began the trek up the grand staircase of the Grant House.

"So," Evan started, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hum. "You’re really sticking with this one, huh?"

Like their father, Evan’s approval was nowhere to be found, though he opted for subtle prodding rather than blatant frostiness.

"Tyler is a good man, Evan. More importantly, he’s my best friend."

"Is that the benchmark now? You’re staying with him because he’s 'nice' and 'a friend'?" He arched a skeptical brow.

"Isn’t that enough for a stable life?"

Evan shrugged, though something flickered in the warm blue eyes he’d inherited from their father—a flash of something unreadable, perhaps even pity. "What about the fire, Willow? I don't see you looking at him the way you used to look at R"

Willow snapped her hand up, cutting the name off before it could poison the air. "I care for him. I like our life. That’s plenty for me, and as my brother, you should be happy I’ve found peace."

Evan offered a small, sad smile. "If that’s what makes you happy, Willow."

"Thank you for understanding," she murmured.

Once she was alone in her room, Willow fired off a quick text to Jade Collins, letting her know she’d touched down safely, then retreated into a long, steaming bath to soak away the grime of Manhattan. She had missed her friends dearly, though video calls had been their lifeline. Jade had traded textbooks for the camera, her modeling career exploding within the shifter fashion circuit, and Willow couldn't be prouder of her ferocity.

Dinner that night felt like a return to a forgotten life. Tyler looked revived, his color returning just in time for Elaine’s legendary cooking. When an apple pie was placed in the center of the table, Willow’s face split into a genuine, greedy grin.

"My absolute favorite," she breathed.

As Evan reached for a slice, Willow slapped his hand away with practiced sibling aggression. "Back off. These are mine by right of return."

"That’s blatant favoritism!" Evan complained, though he was laughing.

"Toby, let your sister have her fill," Robert interjected, a rare smirk tugging at his lips. "You’ve had two years of her share; let her enjoy her homecoming."

The table erupted in easy banter, and for a moment, the shadows felt distant. Then, Elaine’s eyes snagged on Willow’s left wrist.

"What an exquisite piece, Willow. When did you get that?"

Willow looked down at the thin gold chain. It was delicate, adorned with deep green emeralds and tiny diamonds meticulously shaped into roses. An involuntary, soft smile touched her lips.

"It was a graduation gift," Willow replied.

She remembered that night clearly. Her parents' flight had been grounded by a brutal blizzard, leaving her alone in the city. When she’d returned to her apartment after a hollow celebration, the small, unmarked box had been waiting on her doorstep. No note. No name. She should have been wary, but the craftsmanship was so hauntingly beautiful she couldn't bring herself to part with it.

"From who?" Robert’s brow creased into a protective furrow. "Accepting anonymous jewelry is a security risk, Willow. Who sends diamonds without a signature?"

"It’s likely that 'Tom' character," Tyler added, his voice sharpened by annoyance. "The one who leaves roses on her doorstep every birthday."

"Who is Tom?" Elaine asked, her voice rising an octave.

Willow sighed, rubbing her temple. "Just a guy from university who couldn't take a hint, Mom. It's nothing."

"Nothing? The guy was a shadow," Tyler countered. "He trailed her everywhere until he suddenly vanished into thin air. He probably realized I was serious about involving the Enforcers."

"A stalker?" Robert’s voice was a low growl of displeasure. "And you didn't think to inform the Alpha or us?"

"He was gone before it escalated, Dad," Willow insisted, shooting a glare at Tyler for opening his mouth. "He just… stopped. Maybe he moved on."

"He dropped out of the program entirely," Tyler muttered, earning another sharp look from Willow.

In truth, Willow didn't believe for a second that the creepy student was responsible for the bracelet. A mind that twisted couldn't conceive of something so elegant.

The front door clicked open, and the rhythmic strike of high heels against the tile announced the final arrival. Blair Grant sauntered into the dining room, a vision of sophisticated blonde beauty in a yellow sundress and towering stilettos.

"Sorry I'm late! Got caught up in business," she chirped, leaning down to press a brief, perfumed kiss to Willow’s cheek. "Look at you, little sister. You’ve grown quite a bit since our last video call."

"Thanks. How have you been, Blair?" Willow’s smile was tight, a mask of politeness.

"Better than good, actually," Blair said, her skin practically glowing. She acknowledged Tyler with a brief nod; Evan had kept her updated on Willow’s life, even if Blair rarely asked.

As the plates were cleared, Blair leaned forward, her blue eyes gleaming with predatory excitement. "So, Willow? Are you ready for the gala tomorrow night?"

Elaine stiffened visibly. Willow felt a familiar chill. "What gala?"

"The one at the Vale Compound, of course. Didn't they tell you?" Blair’s eyes danced. "The Vale Clan is celebrating their top-tier ranking in the global shifter commerce reports. They’re practically running the territory’s economy now. It’s a massive milestone."

Evan cast a worried glance toward Willow. Robert looked proud. "Roman has a sharp mind for strategy," the patriarch noted. "He’s tripled the Vale influence since he took over from his father."

"He certainly has," Blair agreed, checking her reflection in a silver spoon. "And at this event, I’m making a global announcement. I expect the whole family to be in the front row."

Before Willow could invent a reason to stay home, Elaine gasped, grabbing Blair’s hand. "Is that a stone on your finger, Blair?"

Blair shyly or as shyly as an apex predator could extended her hand. A gold band set with a 'V' encrusted in diamonds caught the light.

"He popped the question last night," Blair whispered, her eyes shining. "We’re announcing the formal engagement date tomorrow."

The room went still. Willow felt a sick, cold churning in her gut.

"The 'V'..." Willow’s voice was a ghost of itself. "For Vale?"

Blair beamed. "Of course. Isn't it stunning?"

A sharp rap on the door broke Willow’s trance. "Are you decent, honey? Your father is getting restless," Elaine called out.

"One minute, Mom!"

Willow stood before the mirror, her palms smoothing the silk of her off-shoulder gown. It was a deep, blood-red material with a sweetheart neckline and a slit that revealed a daring amount of leg. Her hair was styled in long, sleek waves, and her makeup was minimal but flawless.

"I can do this," she whispered to her reflection.

She descended the stairs to find Tyler waiting. He looked striking in a charcoal three-piece suit, his jaw clean-shaven and hair neatly tamed. His eyes widened as she approached.

"Willow... you look incredible. I'm actually speechless."

"You look wonderful too, Tyler. Shall we?"

He offered his arm, and she took it, stepping out into the cool night air. The drive to the Vale Compound was a blur of anxiety. Her mother kept checking on her, clearly worried about the emotional toll of the night. The family knew her heart had been bruised seven years ago, but they didn't know the full extent of the carnage. They didn't know she had seen them on the balcony.

I am not that girl anymore, Willow told herself. I have a life in Manhattan. I have Tyler. This doesn't touch me.

The car screeched to a halt in front of a massive, fortress-like estate. The Vale Compound was a sprawling display of power elegant, intimidating, and glowing with amber light.

"Willow? You're a bit pale," Tyler noted as they stepped out.

"Just the travel fatigue," she lied, her nails digging into her palms.

They entered the grand hall, a space so vast it seemed to swallow the hundreds of guests whole. The air was thick with the scent of luxury and the underlying pheromones of powerful shifters.

Near the bar, a group of four men stood in a tight circle. One had his back turned to them a broad-shouldered silhouette that made Willow’s lungs seize.

Seven years. After seven years, I have to look into those stormy gray eyes again.

She felt her composure slipping, the edges of her reality fraying. She needed to run. She needed to breathe. But as she turned to flee, Blair’s voice cut through the din, calling out to her fiancé.

"Matthew!"

Willow’s feet rooted to the spot. Matthew?

The broad-shouldered man turned around, a wide, easy grin spreading across his face. He strode over, kissing Blair’s cheek before greeting Willow’s parents with familiar warmth.

Willow blinked, a silent, staggering gasp escaping her lips.

This wasn't Roman. This was Matthew Ross the Lanka tactician and Roman’s cousin. The 'V' on the ring stood for the Vale lineage, but the man at the end of the aisle wasn't the one who had shattered her world.

The suffocating pressure in Willow's chest vanished instantly, replaced by a dizzying rush of relief. They weren't together. Roman hadn't mated her sister.

But if Matthew was here... where was Roman?