Chapter 4

Evelyn’s POV

Alexander stood up at that moment. His expression shifted from surprise to calm. 

“Evelyn,” he said, voice smooth. “The meeting in the capital was canceled at the last minute. Mother had an urgent matter to discuss, so I came here instead. Scarlett was already here helping with some pack paperwork...” 

I didn’t let him finish. 

“Save it,” I said quietly. “I don’t care.” This was the life he wanted. And it no longer included me. 

His brows drew together. Scarlett tilted her head, watching me with mild curiosity. Victoria Thorne—official Luna— stepped forward, lips pursed. 

“Evelyn, that is no way to speak to your Alpha. And Scarlett is a guest in our home. You’re being improper by ignoring her.” 

I really didn’t care about all this. She brought me here to discuss matters, not to play hostess and make small talk with Scarlett.

I turned to Victoria. “I’d like to speak with you alone.” 

Victoria’s smile was thin. “There is an important guest present. We can discuss whatever it is another day. Stay and eat with us first.” 

Stay and eat with a home-wrecker? Not interested. 

“I’m not hungry. We’ll talk another time.”

I knew exactly what Victoria wanted—to drag me here and force me to see the truth of my own marriage, and I was in no mood for her games. 

I turned to leave. 

Victoria’s voice snapped like a whip. “Evelyn! Sit down.” 

Alexander stepped into my path, his gaze pressing down on me, a silent command to obey. 

I caught the flicker of irritation in his eyes. 

“Evelyn,” he said coolly, “behave.” 

I paused, takinga deep breath. 

Patience, Evelyn, Patience. 

Just one month of pretending to be a peaceful couple. 

Then, slowly, I returned to the room and took a seat on the edge of the sofa opposite Scarlett. 

She smiled brightly and leaned forward. “You must be Evelyn. I’m Scarlett Hale. It’s so nice to finally meet you in person.” 

Her outfit was flawless: a soft ivory silk blouse tucked into high-waisted trousers, gold jewelry glinting at her throat and ears, dark hair swept into an elegant half-up style. She looked every inch the confident Alpha daughter—polished, expensive, presentable. 

I wore a simple black sweater and jeans, hair pulled back in a low knot. No jewelry except the plain silver band on my left hand—the wedding ring Alexander had placed there seven years ago.

I opened my mouth to say I didn’t need an introduction—that she knew exactly who I was—but Victoria spoke first. 

“She’s Alexander’s company secretary,” she said smoothly, as if correcting a minor mistake. “And a valued member of the pack, of course.” 

I looked at Alexander. 

He met my gaze for a brief second, then looked away. He said nothing!

His mother had just dismissed me—reduced me to “his company secretary” in front of Scarlett, in front of him—and Alexander stayed silent. No correction. No reminder that I was his wife, his Luna in name if not in title. Nothing.

The silence rang louder than any defense.

A fresh wave of humiliation crashed over me, hot and suffocating. My chest tightened, the familiar sting of worthlessness rising like bile. For seven years I had swallowed moments like this—his mother’s barbs, his quiet acceptance of it all—telling myself it was temporary, that love made it bearable.

I drew in a slow breath and smiled. “Yes,” I said calmly. “And he’s my husand.”

Victoria’s expression tightened at once. Scarlett’s gaze snapped to Alexander, sharp and questioning. 

So he hadn’t told her. 

Fine.

He could clean up his own mess. 

I turned my attention back to Victoria, my smile fading into something cooler. “Can we talk now?”

She waved a hand impatiently. “Later. Scarlett and Alexander were just playing cards. Why don’t you join us?” 

Scarlett’s smile turned playful, recovering with impressive speed. “We’re playing Moonrise,” she said lightly. “It’s a game for ranking members.” Her gaze flicked over me. “I’m not sure an omega would be familiar with it,” she said gently, almost apologetically, “but you’re welcome to watch.” 

I didn’t respond. I simply reached for the deck on the table and began shuffling. This kind of game had bored me before I was seven. Lycans didn’t waste time on things so simple. We were taught strategy, not parlor tricks. 

“Let’s start.”

The first round, I won. 

The second, I won again. 

The third, fourth, fifth. Same results. 

Scarlett’s smile tightened with every loss. Victoria’s eyes narrowed, her displeasure plain. By the sixth round, the air in the room had grown thick with tension. 

Alexander watched me, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “You’re sharp,” he said quietly. “Always have been.” 

Scarlett let out a small, breathy laugh. “I guess I’m just having an off day,” Her voice turned soft, almost wounded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lose so badly…” 

She looked up at Alexander, eyes wide and glistening. He reached over without hesitation, resting a hand on her shoulder. 

“It’s just a game,” he murmured. “You’ll get the next one.” 

I watched it all—the way his thumb brushed her shoulder, the way she leaned into his touch, the way he comforted her without a second thought. 

I chose not to react, because soon, I would no longer have to put up with any of this rubbish. Good to be on my best behaviour now. 

Victoria clapped her hands once, as if to dispel the lingering tension from the card game. “Enough of that. Let’s play something more exciting—Alpha Darts.” 

She gestured toward the far wall where a reinforced dartboard hung, the kind used only by Alpha-level werewolves: heavier darts, enchanted fletching that responded to wolf energy, and a target ring that shifted slightly with each throw to simulate a moving opponent. It was a game of precision, power and instinct—nothing an omega should be able to play. 

Victoria had always taken pleasure in moments like this. I used to endure it, to smooth things over for Alexander’s sake. 

I wouldn’t now. 

Scarlett immediately spoke up, voice sweet and concerned. “Oh, maybe we shouldn’t. Evelyn is an omega, after all. She definitely wouldn’t know how to play. Let’s choose something else—something simpler.” 

I looked at her, then at the board. In my heart, I sneered. Childish. Boring. A game I’d mastered before I even learned to shift. 

Victoria waved a dismissive hand. “If she doesn’t know how, she can learn. It’s good practice.” 

Alexander glanced at me, then nodded. “You can try.” 

I picked up one of the weighted darts without a word. 

We played. 

First round: I threw with calm, controlled force. The dart sank dead center, the board’s magic flaring silver as it locked into place. 

Victoria’s smile faltered. 

Second round: Scarlett threw next. Her dart veered slightly off. Mine landed exactly where hers should have. 

Third round: Alexander’s turn. He threw hard, the dart embedding with a satisfying thud. I followed, matching his force and surpassing his placement by a hair. 

By the fourth round, I had beaten all three of them—cleanly, consistently, without breaking a sweat. 

Alexander’s eyes widened. A slow grin spread across his face—the first real smile I’d seen from him in months. “You’ve been holding out on me.” 

Scarlett pouted, rubbing her arm dramatically. “I think I pulled something…” 

Alexander barely glanced at her. He stepped forward, already reaching for another dart. “One more round. I want to see that again. You play better than most ranked members.” 

For a fleeting moment, the old warmth returned. The way he looked at me—like he was seeing me for the first time in years. My chest tightened with something dangerously close to happiness. I almost let myself feel it. 

Almost. 

It was my turn again. 

I drew back my arm, aimed, and released. 

The dart flew through—straight toward the center. 

At the last second, Scarlett stepped forward. 

The dart struck her upper arm. 

She gasped, stumbling back, hand flying to the shallow wound as if it had pierced her heart. 

Alexander’s head snapped toward her. His eyes flashed blue, pupils blown wide—his wolf fully in control. 

He was across the room in a heartbeat, catching her as she swayed. “Scarlett!” 

She clutched his arm, voice trembling. “S-She hit me…” 

Goddess. The acting was painfully obvious. Surely Alexander wouldn’t believe that easily. And yet, I spoke too soon. 

Alexander’s gaze lifted to me, wild and furious. His voice came out loud and guttural. 

“How dare you hurt my mate?” 

The room went silent. 

The words struck me like a physical blow. My ears rang, as if the air itself had been punched out of them. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I stared at Alexander, searching his face for some sign that I’d misheard, that my mind had conjured the words out of thin air.

But his eyes—blue, wild, completely overtaken by his wolf—were locked on Scarlett. His arms were wrapped around her protectively, as if she were something precious and fragile. As if she were his.

His fated mate.