Chapter 4

I'm sweating my palms. We should return to the ballroom; why don't we? To handle this, I need a drink.

To my relief, Clare says, "I don't blame you," and she doesn't appear to have seen the King approaching us.

He shouldn't pass by, in my opinion. I don't want to bow before him only to discover that he isn't even aware of our presence. I also don't want him to see me, though. I was almost about to have an asthma attack when he saw me. I don't want him to ever notice me again because I now know he is a hostile member of our pack.

I take the lead and head straight for the closest catering bar, with my sisters scrambling to keep up behind me. As I go closer, a tall, lean man turns and smiles as if he recognizes me.

It takes me a second to realize who he is.

Before Tara can object, Clare says, "I think we'll go back to the table," and then pushes her away.

Five years ago, when I used the right, I wasn't just interested in what the world of humans had to offer. It offered a chance for me to break free from the marriage contract my father had signed, tying me to Ashton Daniels. Ashton is standing in front of me right now, completely unlike the awkward, frail youngster I left behind. His blue eyes crinkle at the corners with real gladness to see me, and his smile widens. His teeth are perfect. His ginger complexion isn't as startlingly pale, and instead of the blazing orange color we all teased him about in school, his hair looks more like a rusty brown.

He extends his arms, completely dominating the sartorial competition despite the black tie dress rule by managing to get away with wearing navy blue. It isn't until his smile abruptly falters and fades that I realise I am actually staring at him in what probably appears to be dread. You aren't aware of who I am.

His voice has also changed. Although he still speaks softly, it is deeper, and the impression is similar to warm honey. I replied with a slight stutter. "Of course I remember you," he said. I faked a smile and burst into laughter due to the sheer shock of the situation. I extended my arms as well, just to give myself a moment to gather myself.

My breathing almost stops as he gives me a rock-hard hug. His arms are around my back. He whispers, leaning in close, "I was so afraid you wouldn't come back."

Alarms start to sound in my head. To avoid looking him in the eye, I take a step back and tilt my head, pretending to inspect my obstinate hairstyle.

Then suddenly becoming realistic, he continues, "You've been gone for five years." It's possible that your feelings for me have changed from how they were before you left.

How did you find out how I felt about you? I nearly lost it.

My thoughts go back to the time he knocked on my bedroom door, stunning me initially with his entry into my home and then much more so when he revealed that my father had signed a mating agreement. Even though we both attended the private academy that the Trailblazers Pack's offspring attend, Ashton and I didn't really know one another. Before he approached my father, we had hardly finished our conversation.

I'm still unsure about Ashton's true motivations for our engagement. Perhaps it was a hasty choice brought on by a teenage, unrequited crush. Perhaps Ashton believed that getting married would guarantee him a job from my father. Whatever the case, I hardly know the man who is in front of me and acting like an old flame.

My sentiments for him remain the same. since they were never there in the first place.

I say, hoping "hope" doesn't take the place of a vital word, "I thought you would have called off the mating pact by now."

"Never." He gives me a strong headshake before taking my hand and lacing it.

Despite being cut off from the pack for five years, I've managed to have a sweeping romance with my fiancé, a man I barely know, during that time.

"I really appreciate that." What more can be said? "My mom would feel ashamed."

"I wouldn't do anything to put your family in the public eye. when they've already experienced such a great deal. His pained look pauses just short of a wince as he abruptly ends the sentence.

I tell him, "It's okay. It's not okay; I don't appreciate being constantly reminded that I live in a pack of wolves and am the black sheep. I also don't want to do anything to make them look bad.

And I realise too late that he might see that as a promise that I won't be breaking our engagement as he wraps his arm around my waist. I promise to embrace my metamorphosis and live out my days with the pack. With that comment, I may as well have sworn allegiance to him.

Come, he says as he guides me towards the dance floor. We were never given the chance to make a genuine debut.

Less than twenty-four hours after returning home, I'm already back in the world I left behind. I just managed to postpone the inevitable by fleeing. I was foolish to believe that I would ever truly break away from the crowd.

As Ashton guides me onto the dance floor, where couples float and spin to a string quartet's waltz, my stomach begins to churn. He is dapper and sophisticated, and he dances with such grace that when the quartet's waltz begins, my stomach begins to churn. He is dapper and sophisticated, and he dances with such grace that it stretches me. I can feel the eyes on us from all the other couples. I justify to myself that this is the reason everyone is staring, as well as the numerous smug expressions and close-mouthed whispers I notice all around us.

But I'm not cynical enough to think it's true. They encounter Baily Dixon, who abused a long-forgotten law to break from her group. who broke off a mating agreement, refused to change, and in doing so exposed her family to rumours and scorn. Everyone is wondering what I'll mess up next.

The waltz's spinning doesn't make me want to throw up. I grab on to Ashton's shoulder and close my eyes, hoping the music will end soon. Thankfully, it does, and we move aside to respectfully congratulate the quartet.

When I see an exit, I know it. I turn to Ashton to tell him I need to get some fresh air, but before I can say anything, I notice the king advancing with his mouth slightly curved in a smile.

He comes to a stop in front of us and tilts his head in my direction. "Miss Dixon."

He is aware of who I am. In addition, he doesn't even recognise Ashton, who is standing next to me.

I humbly say, "Pack Leader," while bowing.

I don't look up, but I notice that his hand is reaching for mine while wearing the massive royal signet ring. He rules as king. I let him take it and get up, hoping my hand wasn't as perspiring as I had anticipated. A tango is started by the strings.

He keeps his grip on my hand. "Will you dance for me to honour you?"