Chapter 2

Like any other night, I handed Nom his bedtime glass of milk.

Lately, Nom and his brother, Jem, had been at each other's throats, fighting for the top dog spot—the Alpha.

With everything hanging in the balance, Nom had to play it safe, and losing sleep was part of the deal.

So there I was, warming up his nightly milk, watching him gulp down the doctored drink.

Once I was sure Nom was out like a light, I slipped out of the bedroom and into his dark, shut-away study. The desk was spotless, and everything in its place.

Years of marriage had clued me into Nom's routines.

I went straight for the hidden keys tucked under the desk and with a familiar flick, I had them in hand.

The lock clicked open, and an old, well-thumbed photo album was in my hands. The worn cover told tales of many nostalgic moments.

I felt a painful squeeze in my chest at the thought.

I pushed aside the hurt, flipping through the album with a sense of urgency, my movements almost violent.

The first photo hit me like a punch.

There she was, all smiles, with two guys grinning back, their smiles catching just a bit from hers.

There, in that frozen moment, were the two men in my life—my ex, Jem, and my husband, Nom—and I could not help but want to laugh at the irony.

I kept my cool, pretending to be absorbed in the old photo album. Flipping faster, I hit the jackpot at the last page.

I traced the familiar faces of my parents in one of the photos, and there, in the corner, I spotted the earrings in my mom's grip.

Those earrings were one-of-a-kind, custom-made. There was no way there would be another pair out there.

I clearly remembered grilling Sarah about why there was only one of those stunning earrings left.

Her eyes had darted away then, her voice shaky, blaming it on a clumsy nanny.

However, thinking it over, the nanny was nothing if not thorough. No way she would make that kind of mistake.

The only thing that made sense was that Sarah had been spinning a tale.

I snapped a picture of what was solid proof, and that was when I noticed something scribbled on the back of the photo—probably the photographer's name.

I was about to jot it down when the study door flew open.

The creak made me jerk my head up, and there I was, staring right into Nom's eyes.

I kept my breathing steady, stood up without a flicker of emotion, and slipped the key back where it belonged.

"You're up?" I asked him.

"I lost one of my new jewelry pieces recently, so I thought I'd check here, just in case the nanny put it here. Haven't looked here yet," I lied smoothly, strolling past the desk to face him, my eyes painting the perfect picture of concern.

A smirk flickered across my face, out of his sight.

It did not matter if Nom bought my story or not. He could not poke holes in it.

The following day, I hit the streets in search of the witness and, believe it or not, I found someone who had seen Sarah that day.

I had barely walked through the door, evidence in hand, when Nom called out to me.

"Aeliana, the Full Moon Festival is just around the corner. You're not planning to sneak off for some other adventure, are you?"

Nom sat at the dining table, his narrow eyes sweeping over me like a searchlight.

I shivered slightly as I reluctantly met his gaze.

Nom's eyes narrowed at me, his lips curling into a frown of disapproval. His frown deepened when he noticed the suitcase in my grip.

Before I could even attempt to explain, my mother-in-law's piercing voice cut through from upstairs.

"Aeliana, why aren't you at the table with your mate this early in the morning? Is this how you fulfill your duties as a wife?"

Clutching my suitcase a little tighter, I brushed past Nom, not bothering with a reply.

Nom must have caught on to my mood. He stood up and yanked me back to my seat, his voice a low rumble over my head.

"Finish your food. Then, you're coming with me."

I was so over his attitude. My refusal came out before I could think twice.

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

Nom looked taken aback by my sudden defiance, but he did not let go. Instead, he dragged me out the door, rougher than necessary.