Chapter 57
Chapter 57:
She sways past me, chin high, not even bothering with one of her usual snarky comments. Weird. But hey, I’m not complaining.
I watch as she heads straight for Ryder, batting her lashes and biting her lip like she’s starring in some rom-com. And Ryder? Oh, he smiles. He actually smiles. For real? Was this some sort of setup between them both to ridicule me? My chest tightens. Seriously? He’s gonna smile at her and just leave me hanging? That’s super fantastic!
Rage boils under my skin, but I stand tall. He might be having fun toying with my feelings, but I’m not gonna give him the satisfaction of seeing me break. Not tonight.
The room spins, and I can’t do it anymore. This whole charade? It’s bullshit. I spin on my heels, determined to get the hell out of here. I’m not sticking around to be the punchline of Ryder’s little joke.
As I storm off, my mind racing, I mutter under my breath, “Screw this,” completely oblivious to everything around me—until a voice stops me in my tracks…
I roll my eyes and turn around to face Isabelle. My hands tingle, and I have to fight the urge to slap that smug grin right off her face as she stops behind me. I shoot her the most loathing expression I can muster, wishing—just for a second—that looks could kill. At least then, I’d have one less problem on my plate.
“Feeling out of place?” she whispers, her voice dripping with condescension. I inhale deeply, resisting the urge to lock eyes with her. The last thing I need is to engage. This could easily spiral into a full-blown fight, and while I wouldn’t mind rearranging her face, it’s not worth the hassle. Not tonight.
“It must be overwhelming for someone like you to be in a room full of true leaders,” she continues, her eyes flicking toward Ryder before landing back on me.
“Don’t worry, though.” She flips her ponytail with exaggerated flair, circling me like a damn vulture. “You’re just a temporary fixture. And trust me, lady, everyone here knows it p>
Temporary. Lady. Every single person. Her words sting like a slap, burning through me. It’s bad enough that I left my pack, ended up in another, and still, the stigma follows me like a shadow. If it’s not about me lacking a wolf, it’s about me being a werewolf in a Lycan’s world.
I plaster a sweet smile on my face, one that feels almost unnatural. If I let her see she’s getting to me, it’ll be like blood in the water, and the Lycans will circle. No, I’m not about to become their prey.
𝕆𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕥 ⳑ𝕒𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝗲𝗅𝘀[ꞏ]𝚌𝗈𝗺
“Thanks for the concern, Isabelle.” I shrug casually. “But I think I’ll manage. Ryder takes such good care of me that I’m hardly overwhelmed p>
Her smile falters, and I catch the brief flicker of annoyance in her eyes before she rolls them dramatically. “Oh, I’m sure you will. After all, Ryder’s… fond of you p>
“About that.” I make a show of scrunching my face into a mock-thoughtful expression. “You really don’t have a clue what being ‘temporary’ or an Alpha’s lady is, do you? While you’re over there fooling yourself into thinking your fiancé is smitten, I actually make him happy. If you know what I mean.” I wink, watching as her face darkens.
“And I get it.” I lower my voice, leaning in just slightly. “It must suck to share someone who claims to love you with others.” The emphasis on the word “others” is enough to make her nostrils flare. I remember what she said this morning about Ryder’s other lovers. “But unlike some bitter ex, I’ll enjoy every second of my time with him. While it lasts.” I shoot her a playful smile. “Because, darling, I mean more p>
I step back, trying to free myself from her grip, but Isabelle’s nails dig into my skin. Her face contorts, and for a moment, she’s speechless. But then, she gasps loudly, her expression twisting into something far more sinister. Before I can react, she steps closer, gripping my arms with her cold hands and yanking them upward. I wriggle frantically, trying to shake her off, but she’s stronger—she’s Lycan, after all.
“Everyone, please! A round of applause as I introduce to you all, The Alpha’s… temporary lady!” Isabelle’s voice rings out, triumphant, as if she’s just won some twisted game.
The room erupts into laughter, the word ‘temporary’ hanging in the air like a cruel joke. My face burns with humiliation. I should’ve kept walking, should’ve ignored her, but now, now I look weak, pathetic. Everyone knows what ‘temporary’ means. It means being a placeholder until the real deal comes along.