128 Chapter 128


    Seraphina’s POV


    The engagement party was a glittering nightmare wrapped in silk and champagne.


    I clung to Damien’s arm like a lifeline as we moved through the crowded ballroom, my heels clicking nervously against marble floors. Crystal chandeliers threw rainbow light across hundreds of guests, all of them radiating the kind of supernatural confidence.


    “You look stunning tonight,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Stop doubting yourself.”


    I’d spent three hours getting ready, trying on four different dresses before settling on the navy blue cocktail number that Ophelia had picked out. My hair was pinned up in an borate updo that had taken twenty minutes of YouTube tutorials to master.


    And I still felt like a fraud.


    “I don’t recognize half these people,” I whispered as another group of impossibly elegant strangers glided past <ol><li></li></ol>


    “Pack business brings in a lot of allies,” Damien replied. “You don’t need to know them. You just need to be yourself.”


    A server materialized beside us with champagne, and I grabbed a ss like it might save my life. The bubbles burned my throat, but at least it gave my hands something to do besides shake.


    “Sera!” Riley’s voice cut through the crowd like a beacon. She appeared in a vision of silver silk, practically glowing with happiness as she pushed through the sea of guests. “You came! Oh my God, you actually came!”


    She threw her arms around me with enough force to nearly spill my champagne, and for a moment I forgot about everything else. This was Riley. My friend. The reason I’d forced myself toe tonight.


    “Of course I came,” I said, squeezing her back. “I promised.”


    “You look absolutely gorgeous,” Riley gushed, holding me at arm’s length to study my appearance. “Doesn’t she look incredible, Lucas?”


    “Beautiful as always,” Lucas agreed, appearing beside his fiancée with that easy smile that had charmed half


    11:47


    might break. “How are you feeling, Sera? Really?”


    “Good,” I lied smoothly. “Really good.”


    “I can’t wait to meet Lily,” Riley said, her eyes sparkling. “When are you going to bring her around?”


    “Soon,” I promised.


    We chatted for several minutes about wedding ns and baby updates, the familiar rhythm helping to steady my nerves. But then other guests began approaching, drawn by Riley’s maic energy, and I found myself thrust into an endless cycle of introductions.


    “This is Seraphina,” Riley would announce proudly. “Damien’s mate and one of my dearest friends.”


    Handshakes that lingered as they unconsciously tested my strength. And then that momentary confusion when they realized I had no scent to speak of, no supernatural presence to mark me as one of them.


    I watched person after person greet Damien with the subtle head tilts and barely perceptible inhtions that indicated scent-reading.


    Then they’d turn to me and… nothing. Just awkward silence and poorly concealed disappointment.


    “She seems nice,” I overheard one woman whisper as she walked away with herpanion.


    “I suppose,” the other replied with obvious doubt. “Though I can’t imagine what he sees in her.”


    By the time the dancing started, my cheeks ached from forcing smiles and my feet throbbed in their


    impractical heels. Damien guided me to a rtively quiet corner near the floor-to-ceiling windows, where we could watch couples glide across the polished dance floor with inhuman grace.


    “You’re doing beautifully,” he said softly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my hand.


    “I feel like everyone’s staring at me.”


    “They’re curious. It’s natural.”


    “They’re wondering what’s wrong with me.” The champagne was making me honest, stripping away the


    careful politeness I’d been maintaining all evening. “They can all sense it, can’t they?”


    Damien turned to face me fully, his silver eyes intense in the chandelier light. “Sera-”


    11:47


    “Damien!”


    We both turned at the familiar voice, and my heart sank straight into my expensive shoes. Emma Rodriguez was walking toward us through the crowd, and she looked like something out of a fairy tale.


    Tonight she wore an emerald green gown that hugged every curve of her perfect body, the backless design showing off smooth, wless skin that seemed to glow in the warm light. Her dark hair fell in glossy waves over one shoulder, and she moved with the fluid confidence of someone who had never questioned their ce in the world.


    “Emma,” Damien acknowledged with cool politeness. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”


    Emma’s gaze shifted to me, and I watched that familiar flicker of confusion cross her features. It was subtle- just a tiny wrinkle between her perfectly sculpted brows.


    “Seraphina,” she said with practiced warmth. “How wonderful to see you again. You look lovely tonight.”


    “Thank you,” I managed.


    The bandunched into a slow, romantic melody that had several couples drifting toward the dance floor.


    Emma’s eyes lit up with what looked like sudden inspiration.


    “Damien,” she said, turning toward him with a smile that could have powered the entire building, “would you


    like to dance? I promise I won’t step on your toes.”


    “Thank you,” he said smoothly, “but I need to stay with my partner.”


    Emma blinked, clearly not expecting the refusal. “Your partner?”


    “My mate,” Damien corrected, his arm sliding around my waist to pull me closer against his side.


    The change in Emma’s expression was immediate and devastating. Her smile froze, then cracked, then


    disappeared entirely as shock flooded her features.


    “Your mate?” she repeated, her voice climbing an octave. “But you don’t smell like-I mean, there’s no mate


    scent on you at all!”


    Several nearby conversations stuttered to a halt as heads turned in our direction, drawn by Emma’s rising


    voice and obvious distress. I felt heat flood my cheeks, then spread down my neck and across my chest until I


    was sure I was glowing with humiliation.


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    “Seraphina is my mate,” Damien said, his voice dropping to that dangerous alpha tone that made lesser wolves show their necks. “She has been for over a year.”


    Emma’s mouth fell open in a perfect ‘O’ of shock. She stared at me like she was seeing me for the first time, her eyes wide with disbelief and something that looked ufortably like pity.


    “I… oh my God,” she stammered, her professionalposure crumbling before our eyes. “I’m so sorry. I always thought she was your nanny,” she blurted out in a rush.


    The silence that followed was absolute and crushing. I felt every single person in our immediate vicinity turn to stare at me-really stare-taking in my simple dress, myck of obvious pack markings, myplete absence of the supernatural aura that marked every other woman in this room.


    The blood drained from my face so fast I thought I might faint right there on the marble floor. My champagne ss trembled in my hand, the crystal singing softly as my fingers shook.


    The band yed on, couples continued to dance, waiters circted with champagne and canapés.


    And I stood in the center of it all, exposed and humiliated beyond anything I’d ever experienced.