Page 17 of Knot the One They Want

"I don't feel like a princess," I mutter. "More like a lamb being led to slaughter."

Addie's brow furrows. "Evie, you don't have to do this. There's still time to?—"

"To what?" I cut her off, a humorless laugh escaping my lips. "Back out? Embarrass myself and my family in front of the entire coalition? Break a sacred tradition?"

I shake my head, turning to face my best friend directly. "I literally have to do this, Addie. I don't have a choice."

She bites her lip, hazel eyes searching mine for a long moment before a mischievous glint enters them. "Well, you could always fake a mystery illness."

A surprised giggle bursts from my throat, some of the tension easing from my shoulders. Trust Addie to find a way to make me laugh, even in my darkest moments.

"Can you imagine the look on Vivienne's face?" I snicker, picturing my stepmother's perfectly plucked brows rising to her hairline.

"Hey, it would be the perfect revenge."

We dissolve into a fit of laughter, the kind that only best friends can share, our foreheads pressed together as we cling to each other. For a fleeting instant, I almost forget the impending proposal, the weight of expectation, the gnawing fear that I'm about to tie myself to a pack who sees me as nothing more than a pretty trinket.

A sharp knock at the door shatters the moment.

"Evangeline? It's nearly time to leave for the meeting hall." Vivienne's clipped tone filters through the wood, a reminder that my fate is sealed.

I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and smoothing my features into a mask of serene confidence. It's the same mask I've worn a thousand times before, at galas and garden parties, in lecture halls and at luncheons. The mask of the perfect omega, beautiful and biddable, with no desires beyond pleasing her alpha.

But as I turn back to the mirror for a final appraisal, I catch a glimpse of something else in my reflection. A flicker of defiance, a glimmer of the real Evie hidden beneath the veneer. The Evie who dreams of more than a gilded cage, who yearns for a pack that actually understands and values me as a person, not just an object to be won and put on a shelf.

Or, in the case of the Blackwood pack, ignored entirely.

I may have to go through with this farce of a proposal. Assuming the Blackwoods haven't just called both our coalitions together in order to reject me publicly. Actually, I wouldn't put it past them.

Is it bad that I'd actually kind of be relieved?

I take Addie's arm, drawing strength from her steady presence as we make our way downstairs. The rest of my family is already waiting in the foyer, their expressions a mix of anticipation and apprehension. Like they're waiting for me to screw this up, too.

Vivienne's critical gaze sweeps over me, lingering on my hair, my dress, my shoes. I resist the urge to fidget under her scrutiny, keeping my spine straight and my chin high. Finally, she gives a curt nod of approval.

Incredible. I feel like I should get a trophy just for that.

The drive to the meeting house is a blur of manicured lawns and stately mansions. I stare out the window, my mind racing with possibilities. What if the Blackwoods reject me outright? What if they're even worse than they were the other night?

Especially Damien.

By the time we pull up to the sprawling country club, my stomach is tied in knots. I step out of the car, the gravel crunching beneath my heels. The meeting house looms before me, all gleaming white columns and grand arched windows. It's the kind of place that reeks of old money and older traditions. The kind of place where deals are made over brandy and cigars, where reputations are built and broken with a whisper.

All among alphas, of course.

Addie squeezes my hand as we climb the steps, her presence a lifeline in the choppy sea of my anxiety. We follow my parents into the grand ballroom, where round tables are draped in crisp white linens and adorned with towering floral centerpieces.Crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow over the room, glinting off the silverware and champagne flutes.

Most mating ceremonies aren't decked out like this. The Blackwoods really spared no expense. It's like something out of a fairy tale, and for a moment, I let myself pretend that's all it is.

A pretty story, not my reality.

But then I see them. The Blackwood pack, seated at the head table, their powerful frames and cool gazes impossible to miss. Damien, with his inky black hair and piercing blue eyes. Asher, all golden charm with a deadly smile on his lips. Cole, quiet and intense, with a stare that could cut glass. And Lake, as ethereal and enigmatic as his name suggests.

Every eye in the room is on me as I make my way to the front, but I keep my gaze fixed straight ahead. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me falter, of glimpsing the cracks in my carefully crafted facade. I keep my place beside my father, my movements graceful and measured as if this is just another society dinner, not the moment that will define the rest of my life.

Vivienne leans over, her voice low and urgent in my ear. "Remember, Evangeline, you are a Beaumont. You will smile, you will charm, and you will secure this alliance. Failure is not an option."

I nod, my smile never wavering, even as her words twist like a knife in my gut. Because she's right. Failure isn't an option. Not for me, not for my family. I have to be perfect, no matter the cost.

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