chapter 23

I wasn’t stupid. I knew Emma was playing a game.

After last night’s disaster, where she framed me for attacking her, I could barely sleep. Alaric hadn’t punished me—he hadn’t locked me up or hurt me—but his silence was punishment enough. He didn’t look at me the same way, and the way he had led Emma away from my room had sent a clear message.

She was winning.

I had spent the whole night replaying it in my mind, trying to figure out what to do. How did I fight back against someone who had everything—history, status, his love?

I had no answer.

So, I did what I always did when I had no control. I observed.

Today, I kept my distance and watched Emma carefully. She was good. Too good. She played the role of the victim effortlessly, flinching slightly when I entered a room, lowering her voice whenever Alaric was around, always making sure she was near him.

Every time he looked at her, his face softened. I wanted to scream.

But I refused to let her push me out.

Instead, I waited.

I knew she would slip up eventually.

And she did.

It was later in the evening when I caught my first real clue. I had been walking past Alaric’s office, minding my own business, when I heard hushed whispers inside. I almost kept walking—until I heard my name.

I froze, leaning against the wall.

“She’s dangerous, Alaric,” Emma’s voice was soft, trembling slightly. “I know you want to believe the best in her, but she’s not like us. She wasn’t raised in this world. She doesn’t respect it.”

A long pause. My heartbeat thumped loudly in my ears.

Then, Alaric’s voice—low, frustrated. “Emma, she’s my mate.”

Mate.

The word made my stomach twist.

Emma let out a small, shaky breath, then whispered, “And I’m the one you chose.”

Silence.

Then, softer, she added, “I know you feel the bond, but Vanessa… she’ll destroy everything you’ve built. Everything we built. She doesn’t belong here. And I don’t trust her.”

I clenched my fists.

Then, just as I was about to move away, Emma continued, “Just last night, I saw her sneaking around again.”

I nearly choked. What?

Alaric’s voice darkened. “What?”

“I—I didn’t want to say anything at first. I thought maybe she was just… restless. But then I saw her, Alaric. She was heading toward the west wing, where the security rooms are. She had a knife.”

I sucked in a breath.

A knife?

“She looked panicked,” Emma added quickly. “Like she was up to something. I—I was too afraid to say anything before, but… what if she’s planning to run again? What if she’s planning to *hurt* someone?”

Silence.

Then, Alaric’s voice—cold, firm. “I’ll handle it.”

I spun on my heel and walked away before I could hear more. My heart was racing.

She was escalating.

She wasn’t just trying to make me look bad—she was trying to turn Alaric against me completely.

And worse?

It was working.

---

I was furious.

By the time I reached my room, I was pacing back and forth, running through every possible scenario. What would Alaric do now? Was he going to lock me up? Question me? Punish me?

I didn’t get to find out.

Because not even five minutes later, my door slammed open.

Alaric.

His dark eyes were furious as they locked onto mine. His presence filled the room, suffocating, overwhelming.

“Tell me the truth,” he said, his voice sharp.

I lifted my chin. “About what?”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “Don’t play games, Vanessa. Were you near the west wing last night?”

I glared at him. “No.”

His jaw tensed. “And you weren’t carrying a knife?”

My anger boiled over. “Are you serious right now?!”

He took a step closer, his energy radiating power. “Answer the question.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Wow. You really believe her, don’t you?”

His nostrils flared. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

That hurt.

I clenched my fists, stepping toward him. “You don’t know what to believe? I told you she was trying to sabotage me! And now, out of nowhere, I’m sneaking around with a knife?!”

Alaric stayed silent.

His silence was louder than words.

I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Something dark flickered in his gaze. “You have no idea what’s at stake, Vanessa.”

I looked him dead in the eye. “No, you have no idea what’s happening right in front of you.”

He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t have time for this.”

I stepped in front of him as he turned to leave. “Oh, but you have time for her?”

His gaze snapped to mine. “Vanessa—”

“No,” I snapped. “I need to know something, Alaric. If I wasn’t your mate, if fate hadn’t forced this bond between us, would you even care what happens to me?”

He stilled.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my voice quieter now. “Would you even look twice at me?”

The silence was unbearable.

Then, he exhaled heavily and muttered, “I don’t know.”

It shouldn’t have hurt.

But it did.

Something inside me cracked.

I stepped back, my heart pounding in my chest. “Then go,” I whispered.

His brows furrowed. “Vanessa—”

“Go,” I repeated, stronger this time. “Go back to her. To your perfect life.” I swallowed hard. “I won’t fight it anymore.”

His eyes flashed black for a second, but he controlled it.

Then, he said something I wasn’t expecting.

“I want to choose her.”

I froze.

His jaw tightened. “I want to choose Emma. I *need* to. Because she’s safe. Because she makes sense. But *you*—”

His voice turned rough as he took a step closer.

“You make me feel like I’m losing my damn mind.”

My breath hitched.

His hands gripped my arms, pulling me against him so fast I barely had time to react. His scent wrapped around me, and my traitorous body *melted* against him.

“I hate this,” he growled against my ear. “I hate *you* for making me feel like this.”

My pulse thundered.

“Then let me go,” I whispered.

He let out a dark chuckle, his grip tightening. “I can’t.”

The heat between us was intoxicating. I could feel every inch of his body against mine, the tension thick enough to suffocate.

His lips hovered dangerously close to my neck.

“I can’t stay away from you,” he admitted, his voice raw. “No matter how much I try.”

My stomach twisted. “Alaric…”

Before I could say anything else, he pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes.

His pupils were blown wide, his breathing ragged.

And then—just as fast as he pulled me in—he pushed me away.

I staggered back, dazed.

His expression hardened, like he was angry at himself.

“This changes nothing,” he said coldly.

And with that, he turned and left.

Leaving me breathless.

And completely, utterly ruined.