04

Terra's P.O.V

Recognition hardly comes to the face I see gazing back at me in the mirror. Criselda outdid herself this time. Perfect makeup, big wild curls cascading down my back, and that dress—oh God, the dress—is fabulous. Deep black clings to my curves in all the right places and gives me a confidence boost about things I'm not so confident about. My heart is racing inside my chest as I stroke the material. Tonight, I have to be more than Terra. I have to be the woman who can win him back.

"Ready?" Bryan asks, standing over to the side of the door, frowning deep into his face, clearly not a supporter of my plan.

I nodded and just waited. If I was honest with myself, I didn't feel ready yet, but I had no other choice. If I didn't do it now, then he would be out of my life for good.

Bryan doesn't say another word as we drive silently. He does not agree with my obsession to confront Delton tonight but can't sit back and do nothing. The Alpha celebration is the only opportunity to see him again. It has already been a week since that night, and the memory lingers hands on me, the smell, how my body reacted to him. He has to remember, right?

The venue yawns open before me, its elegant, glassy curves glowing in the twilight. Powerful people flood in, all attired in expensive clothes and carrying their status with the weight of a crown. My nerves shoot up as I step out of the car.

Bryan looks over sidelong. "You don't have to do this, Terra. It's a bad idea."

"I don't need your approval," I shoot back, trying to sound firmer than I feel.

"You'll regret it," he says, but I'm already stalking away.

Inside, it's even more showy than I had envisioned: crystal chandeliers, yes, lavish floral arrangements, and tables set with plates of good, honest gold-trimmed dinnerware. A thickly resonant atmosphere of power and wealth. I spot Criselda talking across the room to Alpha Romero. I edge my way into the corner, trying to bleed out of sight behind the woodwork, but my eyes continue to jump back toward the entrance, hoping and praying Delton's going to show up.

Let him come. Let him be here.

A waiter brings me a glass of wine, but my hand is shaking so much that I hardly hold it. I take a sip to settle myself down. My heart sounds louder with every ticking second. What if he never comes? What a waste of my time!

Then, I see him.

Delton walks in the door, commanding the room without ever saying a word. His tall, chiseled body is dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, the deep blue fabric contrasting with his tanned skin. His presence demands one's attention, and he has people turning their heads to acknowledge him. I feel my breath hitch. He is even more imposing than I remember, his dark eyes scanning the crowd as if he owns the place.

I'm not even thinking about it; my feet just take me to him.

"Hi," I say, trying to keep the slight shake from my voice. I smile, trying to be cool inside, though all my insides are shattering.

Delton's eyes jerk to mine, and for an instant something crosses his face – recognition? Again, though, it disappears, and I am left to deal with the chilly, impassive mask of an alpha. I force myself to smile as I hook my arm through his, tuning out the whispering behind me. They are staring, but so do I.

"I didn't think you were coming," I say, forcing a play tone as I grab onto his arm. "What a surprise."

His eyes intensify. "What are you doing?"

"I figured you would miss me," I answer back, trying to sound flirtatious, though my voice cracks.

"You have to stop this, Terra," he murmurs under his breath, his voice dripping with warning. "You don't know what you're getting into."

But I can't stop now when I finally have him in just the right place. So I cock my head to one side and let my fingers brush against his chest. "Why don't we talk in a quieter place? I have a table over there."

Delton's dark eyes narrow as he hesitates. I feel the debate wavering behind them; he is torn. He should not, but that same part of him wants to go with me.

Just as he opens his mouth to speak, the young woman appears, her face gathered into concern.

"Terra, what are you doing?" she whispers harshly, pulling me aside. "You shouldn't be here with him. He's Alpha Delton. Do you even realize what you're playing with?"

"Relax," I mutter, brushing her off. "We're just talking."

"This isn't just talking!" Criselda hisses. "Do you even know what kind of power he holds? You're in way over your league."

I frown at her, my patience splintering. "We're dating, Criselda. He's not just some Alpha to me."

Criselda's jaw drops, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You're lying," she breathes, shaking her head.

"I'm not," I insist, pulling away from her. "Just… stay out of this."

Back toward Delton, pacing along. Pounding in my chest I can feel Griselda's eyes searing the back of my skull and I ignore her.

"I think I've had a bit too much to drink," I muttered, attempting to pretend that I was stumbling as I leaned into Delton. "Can you walk me home? It's just around the block. Please?"

For a moment, I think he's going to decline, then he sighs. "Fine."

And yet, I can feel the crowd's stare upon us as we step toward the door. Delton's arm is strong around mine, holding me upright as I pretend to stumble. His touch sends a shiver down my back, and I resist, desperate not to hold on to him tight. This is it. My chance.

My little house comes into view, and I rummage for the keys, my fingers shaking more with nervousness than with cold.

"Thanks," I whisper, stepping inside. I nibble my lip, hesitating at the threshold. "Do you want to stay here for a little while, then? Just so I'm sure to be okay?"

Delton shakes his head. "I have to get back. There's a meeting—"

I grab him by the collar, overtake his mouth, and kiss him hard. Desperate. I pour every ounce of my longing, of my frustration, of my desire for him into that kiss, hoping, praying that something inside him has awakened.

He stiffens for a moment, but then he pulls away. His eyes blaze with anger against me, such a dark color against his hot alabaster skin.

"Stop." He growls at me, low and dangerous. "Don't ever do that again."

I would stand in that doorway and watch as he turned to walk away from me, the chill of his presence spreading throughout me, embracing me in a cold chill of emptiness.

"Why?"My voice cracked. "You don't want me?

He wheeled on around, face set in lines of hardness, jaw clenched as he was biting down on restrained fury. "You're expecting me to screw you?!" he hissed, eyes flashing with outraged ferocity. "Goddammit, you're the same age as my son. What do you expect from me? That I'd just. Take advantage of you?"

These words cut more into me than I had expected. The tears I was holding back welled up, blurring everything in front of me. But I was still able to keep the sob within my throat so as not to become weak.

"I'm not a child!" I stuttered, my voice shaking between hurt and defiance. "I am of age. I know what I want. Why not? Why does it matter?"

And there, looking at me, anger rising in him so just barely held on to a leash, but something flickered in his something more than that. It wasn't anger; there was conflict maybe guilt, and for an instant, desire. But it was away before I could get it.

"And you're fucking drunk again…" he muttered, his voice tight as if wrestling with himself.

"Please…" I breathed, the plea escaping my lips before I could grab it back. "I want this—" I was going to add.

"Fuck it!" he snarled, letting go of his control for a brief second as he stepped closer. His presence was intoxicating and terrifying, overwhelming me.

I wasn't even sure myself when my hands drifted to his pants, reaching for the heat and tension that was churning and welling up beneath them. His breath hitched, but he didn't move away. Instead, gripping my wrist-not too hard, but enough to make me pause-he said in a voice that had dropped lower, rougher, "Promise me."

"I promise," I whispered, barely able to contain the trembling in my voice. Then, without hesitation, I kissed him, hard and urgent, dragging us both deeper into the moment. My heart was racing as we stumbled through the doorway and into my room, falling onto the bed in a tangle of lips and limbs.

But it had to be enough. As I pressed against him, the flashbacks shifted through my head the memories of Damian and the thought of him: Wait for me, Damian. I'll get you back.