Page 14 of Fated to the Enemy Alpha

Meanwhile, the whispers of the other guests rose from the terrace, their voices carried in on the sea breeze, a chorus of speculation.

“She’s back.”

“Lina Silvermoon’s returned.”

Lina Silvermoon’s return would be the talk of all New York shifter society tomorrow. For years now, the gossip mill had been strengthened by my rogue wolves, who said that Magnus had wiped out all the Silvermoon family. The gossip was a ploy, but perhaps Lina believed that rumor and had returned to take what she believed Magnus had stolen from her through the only means she knew how—by convincing my father she still wanted to be his mate.

Lina’s eyes roamed the room, pausing for a brief moment on some Silvermoon pack members. It was clear they already recognized her as their rightful luna, the expressions on their faces clear.

Forcing myself to act, I moved toward my father and Lina. My movements were deliberate as I tried not to show any emotion. The party seemed to fade as the pulse of my own blood pounded in my ears. My gaze was locked on Magnus’s dark eyes. With a careful aside, I said in his ear. “Forgive my interruption, Alpha, but perhaps this is a conversation best continued somewhere more private?”

I fought every desire I had to look at Lina and instead kept my attention focused on Magnus. His expression was unreadable. His eyes flickered to Lina as he said, “Will you join me in my study, my dear?”

“I’d be delighted, Alpha,” Lina said.

My insides churned into knots. The last thing I wanted was to secure a private audience for Lina with my father, but I had built a persona, one I was determined to preserve. Admittedly, Lina’s presence made that far more challenging to keep than ever before.

Before Magnus left, he ordered, “Inform Hugo that we’ll be a little longer before dinner. Tell him to give the guests more drinks and canapés. I’d like you to come join us in my study when you’ve relayed the message, Stephen.”

So, Magnus wanted me to hear everything Lina had to say. No doubt so his trusted son and beta could weigh her words. I did my best not to betray my tension, but as I strode through the guests to relay Magnus’s orders, I wanted to rip this party to shreds.

The party around me blurred into a distant hum, and in that moment, all I could see was her. The way her electric blue gaze swept over Magnus’s profile as if she was delighted to be offered his arm.

I longed to reach out to her, to pull her back from the edge and into the safety of my arms. Instead, I was expected to interrogate her. With every step I took, my duty to Magnus loomed over me while the desire to protect my fated mate surged within. How the hell was I going to maintain this delicate balance before it all came crashing down?

Chapter 6

Lina

Magnus released my arm as he swept the heavy oak door open to his study, gesturing for me to enter. The contrast was immediate. In the banquet hall, the open doors had let the breeze in, and the air had borne a chill. Here, within the confines of Magnus’s study, the air was hushed, warm from the fire licking at the hearth. “Please,” Magnus said, his voice a low rumble vibrating with authority. “Take a seat.”

The study itself was an assertion of power, a curated space of masculine dominance. Two Chesterfield sofas, worn and softened with age, stood before the crackling fire, offering a deceptive promise of comfort. At the opposite end, a massive mahogany desk, its surface gleaming under the soft light of a brass lamp, and floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled with leather-bound tomes dominated the room. The air hummed with unspoken authority. It was the type of room where decisions were made, deals forged, and secrets kept.

It reminded me of my father’s study, and a familiar wave of vulnerability threatened to overtake me. It recalled all the times my father had, with the same air of quiet command, decreed what was to be: my place and my destiny like his decree that I would enter into a mate bond with Magnus Blackthorn.

My once-intended mate.

Now, that very man sat across from me, his dark gaze assessing me. Short gray hair, streaked with a few strands of still-ebony black, framed his face, hinting at the power of youth Stephen still possessed. His jaw, as square and unyielding as his son’s, was set in a line that spoke of iron discipline. Thick, bushy eyebrows, still mostly black, gave his forehead a heaviness like a gathering storm cloud. He watched and waited, ready to dissect my words and intentions. As I sat on the sofa, its cold, unyielding design made me sit up straighter, reminding me that everything in here was a façade, including myself.

This was a test of wills, and I knew it. I steeled myself, reminding myself to use the truth that I could share to my advantage.

Just then, the door opened again, the soft click a sharp intrusion.

Stephen entered, his movements as precise and economical as always. He closed the door, shutting out the distant hum of the party, trapping us in the study’s confines. Magnus didn’t look at him. Stephen took up a position by the door, like a bodyguard, his stance rigid. My heart, which had steadied at my entrance, began a rapid beat against my ribs. My skin prickled. With Stephen’s hands clasped behind his back, the white of his shirt strained against the taut muscles of his chest beneath his tuxedo jacket. His square jaw and straight nose mirrored his father’s—a shared lineage of strength and control. He looked like the statue of some classical hero, standing there, guarding the door.

Magnus clearly trusted him, or he wouldn’t have asked him to be present. But I had leverage over Stephen. I had secrets that could destroy him. Secrets that could destroy my plan, too. But if there was one thing I knew about Stephen, it was that he didn’t want his father finding out about our past intimacy. I’d wager that was why he’d been so eager to get me out of here earlier. He’d been worried about me revealing the secret I had over him to Magnus. But he could relax. As long as he kept quiet about us, so would I.

I turned my attention back to Magnus, suddenly aware of his scrutiny. I knew it was wise to give him as much truth as I dared. His dark brown eyes, like polished mahogany reflecting the firelight, searched me, already trying to detect the lies I was about to tell.

“I still can’t believe you’re here, Lina,” Magnus began, his voice far less emotive than it had been in the hall, where his charm had been on full display. “After all these years. The day of the attack, my packmates searched for you, but there was no trace.”

His words hung heavy in the air. He had believed me dead. I forced myself to meet his gaze, maintaining an unyielding front.

This was my moment. To convince him I was back to reclaim what was mine—without being a threat.

I nodded, striving for a tone that was respectful but resolute. “That day, my mother threw me out the hall, screaming at me to run. She locked the doors to stop me from going back to help her.” I swallowed, blinking back the sudden sting of tears, allowing the memory of that horrifying moment to pool in my mind, a raw vulnerability I let him see. “I wanted to go back. She was bleeding, but Mira, one of my packmates, found me in the corridor and told me to run. I remember coming outside with her, and then, he took me.”

“Who?” Magnus asked, his voice low, his eyes narrowing.

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