Chapter Twenty-Six

The night air was heavy with the scent of fresh cut grass and regret. From the balcony, Julian watched the workers below setting torches along the garden’s path, their flames flaring and dimming like fireflies in the dark. The whole place was being transformed for the ceremony — the celebration of his forever.

He took another slow drink from the glass in his hand. The burn of whiskey was sharp, unfamiliar. He rarely drank, but tonight he needed something that could bite back.

The door opened behind him with a soft click. Footsteps crossed the marble floor, unhurried but deliberate.

“So,” Jace said, coming to stand beside him, hands tucked into his pockets. “I take it she didn’t call off the mating ceremony?”

Julian’s mouth curved — not into a smile, but something close to one. “And give up the status? The power? The image? The social climb?” His gaze stayed fixed on the glowing garden below. “No. That’s not Elara.”

Jace leaned his elbows on the railing, glancing at the torches flickering below. “Didn’t think so,” he said after a beat. “Elara strikes me as the type who’d rather set herself on fire than let someone else see her lose.”

Julian huffed a breath — could’ve been a laugh, could’ve been a curse. “You’re not wrong.”

Jace studied him for a moment out of the corner of his eye. The drink in Julian’s hand, the distant stare, the rigid line of his shoulders — all of it told him more than words ever would. “You planning on drinking yourself through the next five days?”

“Maybe,” Julian said flatly, lifting the glass again. The whiskey caught the light, deep amber against the dark. “Seems as good a strategy as any.”

“Right,” Jace said, stepping closer to Julian. His voice dropped lower. “Look… I know you told me to stop digging into her past,” he began carefully, “but one of my contacts just sent a follow-up report.”

Julian’s head turned, the glass pausing halfway to his lips.

Jace pulled a folded set of papers from his jacket. “I’d already put in the request before you told me to drop it. Took longer than usual — my contact had to be careful. The lab ran it quietly through Council systems to avoid setting off any flags.”

Julian’s eyes shifted toward him, the weight of his stare enough to make Jace clear his throat before continuing.

“They confirmed what we already knew — she’s Lycan. However, her DNA tested positive for dominant-grade markers. Not recessive — dominant. She’s got Alpha blood in her, Julian. Strong Alpha blood.”

Julian’s brow furrowed, shock flashing behind his eyes before thought took over. “That explains a lot,” he muttered. “She’s certainly no submissive omega.”

He leaned back, the idea already taking shape. “If she’s of Alpha heritage—strong Alpha heritage—then whose bloodline is she from?” His voice was low, edged with something close to suspicion. “It has to be someone of high standing to have wanted to keep her hidden. Maybe her existence would’ve caused a scandal.”

Jace hesitated, shifting his weight. “You don’t think her father could be…” His eyes met Julian’s. “Her Alpha?”

Julian’s stare snapped up, locking onto Jace’s. The silence between them stretched thin.

“No,” he replied hesitantly, as if he wasn’t fully convinced. “Can’t be. She looks nothing like him… nothing like his twins.”

But the denial landed hollow, even to his own ears.

Julian leaned on the railing, eyes narrowing in thought. “Can your contact run her DNA through the system?” He asked. “See if there’s a match in the database?”

Jace exhaled through his nose, the sound more a grim laugh than anything else. “I’m not sure that’s smart.” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing toward the balcony doors as if the Council itself might be listening. “If the sample’s run again, it could get flagged. It’d raise questions we’re not ready to answer.”

Julian’s gaze stayed fixed on him. “But it’s possible?”

“Perhaps,” Jace admitted, lowering his voice, “just not safe. But I’ll ask.”

Julian gave a slow nod, the faintest spark of resolve glinting behind his eyes. “Do that.”

Jace held out the report to Julian, the paper marked by a deep crease from being folded and stuffed in his jacket pocket all day. “You should keep this,” he said, handing it over.

Julian took it without looking down, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the balcony rail. Below them, the torches along the garden path flickered in the wind—small, controlled flames dancing against the dark.

“I’ll ask my contact,” Jace added quietly. “See if there’s a way to run her DNA again. No promises. If it pings the Council’s system, we’ll both have a problem.”

Julian gave a curt nod. “Understood.”

Jace hesitated a moment longer, studying him. “You’re not going to sleep tonight, are you?”

Julian’s mouth twitched, a ghost of amusement that never reached his eyes. “Probably not.”

Jace exhaled, muttered something under his breath that sounded like figured, and left him there.

The door clicked shut behind him, and the sound seemed to pull the night tighter around Julian. He stared down at the report still in his hand—the words Dominant Lycan genotype (Alpha-class expression) stood out under the lab seal, stark in the torchlight.

If she truly carried the blood of an Alpha, someone had gone to great lengths to hide her. To erase her. Secrets like that didn’t vanish by accident.

He folded the paper slowly, slipping it into his pocket.

The wind stirred, carrying the mingled scent of smoke and jasmine from the gardens below. Julian leaned his elbows on the railing, the weight in his chest pressing heavier with each breath.

Maybe it was the liquor, or the silence, or the fact that her name was still carved into his mind—but for the first time in years, he couldn’t tell whether he was chasing the truth… or being dragged toward it.