Julian didn’t move from the garden archway until Marcus was gone.
Kristen watched from the window of the east wing living room, his forehead pressed against the cold glass, his heart still hammering against his ribs.
He couldn’t hear what was being said, but he could see everything that mattered.
The rigid line of Julian’s shoulders, the way Marcus’s easy posture had evaporated into something tense and defensive, the way Marcus’s hands stayed very still at his sides as if he was afraid to move them.
The conversation lasted less than two minutes.
Julian did most of the talking—short, clipped sentences that Kristen couldn’t read on his lips but could imagine all too well.
Marcus nodded once, twice.
He didn’t argue.
He didn’t push back.
He simply inclined his head, turned on his heel, and walked away, his stride quick and controlled.
Julian didn’t come inside right away.
He stood alone in the garden for a long moment, his back to the house, his hands at his sides.
The pale roses wound through the iron archway stirred in the breeze, petals scattering across the gravel path like confetti for a wedding that suddenly felt even more impossible than it had an hour ago.
Kristen watched Julian’s shoulders rise and fall, the kind of motion someone made when they were trying very hard to keep themselves under control.
Then Julian turned and walked toward the east wing, and Kristen stepped back from the window, his pulse racing, his wolf pacing frantically beneath his skin.
‘He saw everything,’ his wolf said.
Its voice was tight, anxious.
‘He’s going to be furious.’
I know.
‘What are you going to tell him?’
The truth.
That Marcus kissed me.
That I didn’t want it.
‘And if he doesn’t believe you?’
Kristen didn’t have an answer for that.
He thought about the way Julian had looked at him in the graveyard—exhausted, hollowed out, still capable of grief after forty years.
He thought about the way Julian had looked at him in the kitchen on that first night—hungry and triumphant and in control.
He thought about the way Julian had looked at him just now in the garden, standing under the iron archway where they were supposed to recite their vows in three weeks, his expression unreadable.
He realized he doesn’t really know Julian.
The door opened.
Julian stepped inside.
He closed the door behind him with a soft, deliberate click, and the quiet that followed was worse than any explosion could have been.
Kristen had faced down angry Alphas before—Dalton in a rage, his mother in full command mode, warriors who wanted to challenge his right to lead.
He knew how to handle fury.
He didn’t know how to handle this.
This cold silence that turned the air into something thick and unbreathable.
“He’s gone,” Julian said.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
The the kind of calm Kristen had only heard once before—right before he had broken Dalton’s ribs in the middle of the communal hall.
“He won’t be returning to the estate for the foreseeable future.
His trade discussions can be handled remotely, and his presence at the wedding is no longer required.”
Kristen turned from the window.
He’d been bracing himself for shouting.
For accusations.
For the cruelty Julian had wielded at the coven gathering.
Instead, he got this—a quiet, measured statement of fact, delivered in a voice that might have been discussing the weather.
It was infinitely more terrifying.
“I didn’t kiss him.”
“No.
He kissed you.” Julian’s eyes were crimson and still unreadable.
“I’m aware.
I saw it.”
“Then you know I shoved him off.”
“I saw that too.” Julian walked past him, toward the fireplace, his footsteps soundless on the marble.
He stopped with his back to Kristen, one hand resting on the mantel.
The pose was casual.
Almost relaxed.
But Kristen could see the tension in his fingers, the way they curled against the stone as if he was holding himself back from something.
“I also saw you walk into the gardens with him.
Alone.
After I told you explicitly to stay away from him.”
“You told me to come find you if anyone touched me.” Kristen’s voice was steadier than he felt.
“You didn’t say anything about not talking to him.
You didn’t say he was off-limits.
You just said he was charming and that I should be careful.
That’s not the same thing as telling me to stay away.”
“Don’t be obtuse.” Julian’s voice was still quiet, still controlled, but there was an edge to it now. Get faster updates on g.com.
A cold, sharp edge that made Kristen’s wolf stir uneasily in the back of his mind.
“You knew what I meant.
You knew why I was warning you.
You knew I didn’t want him anywhere near you.
And you went with him anyway.”
“Because you weren’t there!” Kristen’s voice rose despite himself, the frustration of the past nine days finally boiling over.
“You’ve been buried in meetings for days.
You cancelled on the fitting.
You barely speak to me.
Every time I try to talk to you, you look at me like I’m another item on your to-do list that you don’t have time for.
And when you do pay attention to me, it’s to threaten me or mock me or remind me that I’m trapped here.” He took a step forward, his golden eyes flaring.
“Marcus was the only person in this entire estate who actually treated me like a person today.
So yes, I walked with him.
I didn’t think he was going to—”
“What?” Julian turned to face him, and the mask slipped—just for a moment, just enough for Kristen to see the fury burning underneath.
“What did you think he was going to do?
He’s a vampire.
He’s been circling you since the moment you walked into that gathering like you were something he wanted to sink his teeth into, and you thought he just wanted to be friends?
You thought he wanted to discuss the weather?”
“He talked about the coven,” Kristen shot back.
“He talked about how suffocating the politics are, how trapped he feels, how he stays in his lane because it’s the only way to survive.
He sounded like—” He stopped himself, but too late.
The words were already out, hanging in the air between them.
“Like what?” Julian’s voice was dangerously soft.
Kristen swallowed.
“Like someone who actually understands what it feels like to be trapped in this world.
To have your life decided for you by people more powerful than you.
To pretend everything is fine when it isn’t.”
“And you thought that made him safe.” Julian’s lips curved into something that wasn’t a smile.
“You thought that because he was sympathetic and said all the right things, he wasn’t still a predator.
You thought he was different.
You thought he was kind.” He took a step closer, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop another degree.
“He’s a vampire who saw an opening and took it.
And you gave him that opening, Kristen.
You let him walk you.
You let him stand close enough to touch you.
You let him lean in.
Whatever happened after that, you let it get that far.”
“I didn’t let anything.” Kristen’s voice was shaking now.
With anger.
With something else he didn’t want to name.
“He kissed me.
I didn’t ask for it.
I didn’t want it.
I shoved him off the second my brain caught up with what was happening.
But you don’t care about that, do you?
You’ve already decided what happened.
You’ve already decided I wanted it, or I invited it, or I somehow let it happen.
You’re not even asking me what happened.
You’re just—” He broke off, his chest heaving.
“You’re just standing there, looking at me like I’m something you’re trying to decide whether to throw away.”
The silence that followed was brutal.
Julian stared at him, and for one terrible moment, Kristen saw something flicker in his expression—something that looked almost like Jonathon.
The same absence of warmth.
It was there and gone in an instant, but Kristen saw it, and he knew Julian saw him seeing it.
Julian said quietly.
“When my father touched you, you said you could handle yourself.” His voice dropped, cold and venomous.
“And now my cousin had his hands on you in my own gardens, in front of the altar where we’re supposed to be vowed together, and you didn’t handle anything.
You froze.”
The callback was deliberate.
And effective.
Kristen felt it land like a physical blow, driving the air from his lungs.
“I froze because I wasn’t expecting it.” His voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.
“I thought he was just—” He stopped.
Shook his head.
“You know what?
Forget it.
You’re not even trying to listen to me.
You’ve already made up your mind, and nothing I say is going to change it.”
“What happened,” Julian said, each word precise and cold, “is that a member of my own clan felt comfortable enough to put his hands on my husband. Get faster updates on g.com.
Whether you wanted it or not, it happened.
And my father will hear about it.
The council will hear about it.
Every vampire who’s been waiting for a crack in this alliance will have ammunition now, because you couldn’t stay inside for one afternoon.”
“Then maybe you should have been there.” Kristen stepped forward, his golden eyes blazing.
“Maybe you should have been at the fitting like you said you would.
Maybe you should have been around instead of leaving me alone for days at a time to wander this estate like a ghost.
You want to blame me for what happened?
Fine.
Blame me.
But don’t pretend you didn’t set the stage for it.
Don’t pretend you’ve been anything but absent since the day I got here.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“I am trying to keep you alive.”
“You’re trying to keep me in a cage!” Kristen held his ground, his heart pounding.
The words hung in the air between them, sharp and final.
Julian didn’t respond.
He just stood there, his hands at his side, the silence stretched until it felt like it would suffocate them both.
Somewhere in the distance, the grandfather clock chimed.
The fire crackled in the hearth, its warmth doing nothing to dispel the cold radiating off Julian’s still form.
“Your pack is coming to the wedding,” Julian said finally.
His voice was flat.
Emotionless.
“My father arranged the invitations.
He wants the surface showing of a willing alliance, which means your family, your friends will be seated in the front rows.
Watching.” He paused, letting the words sink in.
“If anything like this happens again—if there’s even a whisper of impropriety, if anyone in this coven has reason to doubt that this alliance is stable—my father will use it.
He’ll use them.
He’ll use them to hurt you, and he’ll enjoy it.
Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
Kristen’s blood ran cold.
The image of his mother’s face—proud, defiant, already broken once by the weight of what she’d had to do—flashed through his mind.
His father, on his knees in the office, weeping.
Scarlet, clutching her bruised throat.
Dalton, Malachi, Theo—all of them, walking into this estate for a wedding that was supposed to be a celebration, walking straight into Jonathon’s crosshairs.
“You’re threatening my pack now?” Kristen said quietly.
“After everything, you’re still threatening my family.”
“I’m warning you.” Julian’s eyes met his, and there was no softness in them.
No exhaustion.
No grief.
Just the cold, hard mask of a man who had learned centuries ago that the only way to survive was to be harder than everyone around him.
“Whatever you think of me—whatever you think of this marriage—I am the only thing standing between your pack and my father.
You don’t have to like it.
You don’t have to like me.
But you will stop giving him reasons to doubt this alliance.
You will stop giving him cracks to exploit.
And you will stay away from Marcus Vane.”
“He kissed me,” Kristen said again, and this time his voice cracked on the word, the frustration and the injustice of it breaking through despite everything.
“I didn’t want it.
Why won’t you believe me?”
Julian held his gaze for a long moment.
Something flickered in his expression—hesitation, maybe.
Or doubt.
Or the faintest, most fragile shadow of the man Kristen had seen in the graveyard.
For one breathless second, Kristen thought Julian might soften.
Might step forward.
Might say something that would bridge the chasm that had opened between them.
Then Julian shook his head.
“Just..stay a good pet.” he said quietly.
And he walked out of the room without looking back, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft, final sound that echoed through the silence like a verdict.
Kristen stood alone in the living room, his hands still clenched into fists at his sides, his heart still pounding, his wolf still pacing restlessly beneath his skin.
He didn’t follow Julian.
He didn’t call out.
He just stood staring at the closed door, wondering how a kiss he hadn’t asked for and didn’t want had somehow become his fault.
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ his wolf said quietly.
I know.
Kristen was just starting to careee( ≧Д≦)