Chapter 14

The Audacity

Grace's POV

I made it exactly three steps inside the reception hall before my carefully constructed composure began to crack. My hands were shaking—barely visible tremors that would be imperceptible to anyone who wasn't looking closely, but tremors nonetheless. Three years of training, three years of building myself into something unbreakable, and five minutes with Jace Storm had rattled me more than facing down Thomas Chen in the ring.

*The nerve of him.*

I found a quiet corner near the far wall, positioning myself where I could observe the room while keeping my back protected. Old habits from the early days of my training, when Grandfather had drilled situational awareness into me until it became second nature. Right now, I needed every advantage I could get to maintain the facade of unshakeable confidence.

*"What if I said I was wrong? What if I admitted that you're everything I never had the wisdom to see?"*

His words echoed in my mind like a poison, seeping into the cracks of the armor I'd spent years building. The absolute audacity of the man—to stand there on that balcony, looking at me with those dark eyes that had once held nothing but contempt, and act like his belated recognition meant anything at all.

What did he expect? That I would melt at his feet because he'd finally deigned to acknowledge my worth? That I would forget three years of rebuilding myself from the ashes of what his cruelty had left behind?

I took a careful sip of wine, using the moment to scan the room. Several pack leaders were still watching me, probably hoping for another chance to curry favor with Silver Moon's new Alpha. I would need to mingle, to continue playing the political game that had become second nature over the past year. But first, I needed to purge the memory of Jace's voice from my system.

*"I made a mistake. The biggest mistake of my life."*

A mistake. That's what he called it. Not a deliberate choice to believe lies over truth. Not a conscious decision to protect his own image at the cost of an innocent girl's life. A mistake, as if he'd simply miscalculated and arrived at the wrong answer on a math problem.

The glass in my hand creaked ominously, and I realized I was gripping it hard enough to crack. I forced my fingers to relax, drawing on the breathing techniques Grandfather had taught me during those first, difficult months when rage had threatened to consume me entirely.

*Breathe in for four counts. Hold for four. Out for four. Control the emotion, don't let it control you.*

"You look like you could murder someone," a familiar voice said beside me, and I turned to see Marcus approaching with the satisfied expression of a grandfather whose protégé had just exceeded every expectation.

"Just processing the evening's events," I said, grateful that my voice came out steady.

"Mmm." He studied my face with the keen perception that had made him one of the most successful Alphas in the region. "Would these events happen to involve a certain young Storm pack heir who's been watching you like a starving man looks at a feast?"

I nearly choked on my wine. "Grandfather—"

"I've been observing pack dynamics for forty years, Grace. I know the signs of a severed mate bond, and I know what it looks like when the wolf responsible realizes what he's lost." His expression hardened slightly. "The question is: what do you intend to do about it?"

"Nothing," I said immediately. "There's nothing to do. That connection is dead and buried, and I have no intention of resurrecting it."

"Good." The word was delivered with finality. "Because that boy—and yes, he's still a boy despite his rank—had his chance. He chose to throw it away for the sake of his pride and his pack's approval. The consequences are his to live with."

Marcus moved closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear. "But I need to know if seeing him again is going to compromise your judgment. We're in the middle of delicate negotiations with three different packs, and Silver Moon can't afford to have its heir distracted by old wounds."

The reminder of my responsibilities was exactly what I needed. Over the past three years, I hadn't just been training to become a warrior—I'd been learning to be a leader. The Silver Moon pack had trusted their future to me, had invested time and resources in my development. I owed them more than personal dramatics.

"It won't be a problem," I said firmly. "Jace Storm is irrelevant to my plans."

"Excellent. Because I've just received some interesting intelligence from our contacts in the eastern territories." Marcus's expression shifted to business mode. "There have been increased rogue activities near the Storm pack borders. Nothing major yet, but enough to make their neighbors nervous."

I frowned, processing the implications. "Coordinated attacks or random harassment?"

"Unknown, but the pattern suggests coordination. Someone's testing their defenses." He paused meaningfully. "It might be worth keeping an eye on the situation. For regional stability, of course."

Of course. Nothing to do with my personal history with the Storm pack. Just practical politics and the need to monitor potential threats to mountain territory security.

But as Marcus moved away to continue his networking, I found my gaze drifting across the room to where Jace stood with his father, deep in conversation with representatives from two neighboring packs. Even from a distance, I could see the tension in his posture, the way his eyes kept flicking toward my corner of the room.

*Let him look,* I thought savagely. *Let him see what he threw away.*

The girl he'd rejected would have been thrilled by his attention, would have read hope into every glance and gesture. But I wasn't that girl anymore. I was Alpha Grace Silver, heir to one of the most respected packs in the region, and I had more important concerns than the regrets of a man who'd learned wisdom too late.

Still, I couldn't quite ignore the memory of how he'd looked on that balcony—not with the cruel confidence I remembered from our school days, but with something that looked almost like desperation. The recognition in his eyes when he'd said I was everything he'd never had the wisdom to see.

*Too little, too late.*

The phrase became a mantra as I moved through the reception, engaging in the political conversations that would shape Silver Moon's future alliances. Each interaction reminded me of how far I'd come, how much I'd accomplished without his support or approval. I didn't need Jace Storm's validation. I'd never needed it.

But late that night, as I stood on the balcony of my guest quarters looking out at the moonlit mountains, his words echoed in my mind again.

*"You feel it. Whatever this is between us, it's not gone."*

He was right, and that was the most infuriating part of the entire encounter. Despite the severed mate bond, despite three years of deliberate emotional distance, there was still something there. Not love—that had died the night he'd rejected me. But recognition, perhaps. The acknowledgment of what we might have been if he'd been strong enough to see past his own prejudices.

It didn't matter. Whatever connection still existed between us was irrelevant to the life I'd built. I had responsibilities now, a pack that depended on me, alliances to build and maintain. I couldn't afford to be distracted by the ghost of a bond that should never have existed in the first place.

My phone buzzed with a text message, and I glanced down to see a number I didn't recognize: *You were magnificent today. Proud to finally see you claim what was always yours. - J*

I stared at the message for a long moment, feeling that traitorous flutter in my chest that reminded me of the girl I used to be. Then I deleted it without responding and blocked the number.

Jace Storm had made his choice three years ago. Now I'd made mine.

The past was dead. It was time to focus on the future—a future where Alpha Grace Silver didn't need anyone's approval or recognition to know her worth.

A future where Jace Storm was nothing more than a regrettable chapter in someone else's story.