Chapter 8

EVE.

The ceremony was finally over.

Thank God.

I could finally breathe, at least a little. Air that wasn't tainted with Saint's scrutinising eyes crawling over my skin or his voice popping out of nowhere in my head like a curse I couldn't escape.

I didn't bother unpacking. What was the point? I wasn't staying. I just dug through my suitcase and picked out something simple and clean for the inevitable family dinner. A basic top and jeans. Nothing too fancy. I also picked out a simple nightwear to use for the night.

Mum's laughter filtered into my room as they made their way out to the dining area. She sounded light and peaceful, like this was everything she wanted.

My new stepfather showed me to my room the moment we returned.

I also found out that Saint had his own apartment not too far from here. It should have been encouraging. But it still wasn't enough. I didn't want to be anywhere near his territory.

A knock came at the door, followed by a cheerful, "Come on out, honey! Dinner's ready!" My new stepfather's voice was just as warm as my mum's.

When I stepped into the dining area, he waved me over with a grin, gesturing to the seat beside him. "Sit with me," he said, like we'd known each other for years.

I obeyed without question.

He was nothing like his son. He was cool, friendly, and lighthearted. He cracked a few lame jokes and threw me these warm, fatherly glances. It made my stomach turn because I couldn't understand how someone like that raised someone like Saint, who was cold, dead, and detached from the world.

I looked around and Saint wasn't here yet. And for one stupid moment, I wished he wouldn't be in attendance.

The maids served our meals, and I was so stupid to have thought that Saint wasn't going to make it when we started eating and had almost gone past halfway.

I was already easing up. Small talks bounced back and forth. I even managed a couple of small laughs at something Alpha Rollins said about Mum's terrible handwriting when the front door pushed open and the air around me suddenly turned to acid.

Alpha Saint.

I lifted my gaze instinctively and watched him walk in.

Black shirt. Dark jeans. Nothing out of the ordinary, but he had that same aura. That dead silence that followed him everywhere, like something unseen had entered the room with him.

He strolled in like he owned the very air we breathed... and maybe he did, because the entire room went quiet the second he stepped in, like his presence flicked a switch and muted everything.

He walked past me like I wasn't even there and took the empty seat across the table.

And just like that, the ease I felt a few minutes ago just fizzled away, and every muscle in my body went rigid again.

So much for peace.

He gave a nod to his father. "Dad."

Then a quick, half-hearted, "Hello," to my mother as he poured himself a drink.

I kept my eyes down, focused on my fork. It was the safest thing to do.

But Alpha Rollins, of course, didn't notice the way my shoulders tensed the moment his son walked in.

He chuckled and motioned between us. "Have you two met? You didn't even say hello to your stepsister, son."

I froze.

Please don't.

Please…

Saint didn't look away from his plate. "Of course I've met Eve," he said flatly. Then, slowly, he lifted his gaze and turned it on me. "Haven't I?"

My breath caught. My grip on the fork nearly slipped.

He didn't say it like a question. He said it like a fucking gentle reminder and a threat put together.

I forced a small, breathy smile, which was more of a reflex than a response. My throat felt too tight to form words anyway.

Saint didn't say another word. He went back to his food like nothing had just happened.

The table fell silent again, tension sitting comfortably between us. Even Alpha Rollins didn't know how to fill it.

It was Mum who tried next.

"So…" she smiled warmly, glancing at Saint, "how's being Alpha going for you?"

He didn't answer at first. He just chewed, swallowed, and wiped his mouth with the napkin, all without looking up.

Then finally, he said dryly, "Fine."

Mum didn't seem fazed. She kept going like she didn't notice the disdain behind every syllable that came out of his mouth.

"Well, I'm just glad we're now part of your pack," she said with that overly hopeful tone she always used when she was trying to keep the peace. "And I'm especially glad Eve will be getting her wolf under the umbrella of such a strong Alpha."

Saint suddenly stopped and turned in my direction, his dead eyes reading me like an open page of a mystery novel.

"She doesn't even have her wolf yet?" he asked.

But he wasn't really asking. He was prodding and peeling back skin to poke at the bone underneath.

Mum laughed softly, like it wasn't a big deal. "No, not yet. But soon. She'll be turning twenty-one in three months." Oh, God. Mum shouldn't have said that.

But she just went on, "And you wouldn't believe the kind of things she's capable of even without her wolf."

Saint didn't take his eyes off me. "Trust me," he said, the corner of his mouth twitching into something that wasn't quite a smile. "I can imagine."

And at that moment, I wished I could disappear into the chair.

No one else at that table knew what he meant.

But I did.