Page 17 of Knotting else Matters

She smiled, her warmth like a candle in a storm, but I didn’t miss the worried crease in her brow.

“Of course, Olivia has always had… unconventional tastes,” Lena’s voice cut in, her smile still perfectly polite. “But I suppose that makes her so… unique.”

“Unique,” I muttered, my fingers tightening on the silver spoon. “That’s one word for it.”

Sophie’s hand squeezed mine gently under the table, a silent plea. Just for tonight. Just for her.

So I looked down at my plate and focused on breathing. Focused on letting Lena’s barbed compliments and sharp smiles slide off me like rain on glass. Because this was Sophie’s moment. Sophie’s night.

And I wouldn’t ruin it for her. Even if I had to swallow every sharp retort I wanted to hurl across the table.

The roast arrived, a perfectly seared, aromatic masterpiece placed carefully in the center of the table, and I tried to lose myself in the warm, savory scent. I cut a piece, tried to focus on the tenderness of the meat, the subtle flavors of rosemary and garlic. Anything but the tightening knot in my chest.

But of course, Lena couldn’t help herself.

“And how is that divorce going from your human?” she asked, her voice light, like she was inquiring about the weather.

The table stilled. Even the quiet clatter of silverware seemed to pause. My fingers tightened around the fork, the metal pressing uncomfortably against my palm.

“Fine,” I said, forcing my voice to stay even.

“Is he picking you clean?” Lena continued, a faint smile touching her perfectly painted lips. “Humans can be so… petty. I do hope you didn’t sign anything foolish.”

“He cheated on me, Mom. He gets nothing, remember?”

There was a beat of silence, and then she looked at me, that familiar expression of barely hidden disgust clouding her face. “I still don’t understand why you married a human in the first place. It was always bound to end like this. They don’t understand loyalty. They don’t value the sanctity of marriage.”

I felt something twist in my chest, a sharp, painful stab of something raw and ugly. “Mating is for life, right?” I muttered, the bitterness slipping out before I could stop it.

“Exactly,” Lena said, her tone firm, like she was lecturing me. “A true bond. Something beyond their understanding.”

“Lena,” Evelyn’s voice was gentle, a thin attempt at diffusing the tension. “I’m sure Olivia—”

But I didn’t hear the rest. I couldn’t.

The walls felt like they were closing in, the warm, golden light suddenly too bright, too suffocating. I pushed my chair back, the soft scrape against the polished wood too loud in the quiet room.

“Excuse me,” I murmured, the words barely more than a whisper. I didn’t wait for a response. I just turned and walked, the grand hallway stretching out before me like a lifeline.

The cool night air hit me like a shock as I stepped out onto the terrace, the chill biting against my bare shoulders, but I didn’t care. I needed it. Needed to breathe. Needed to escape the walls pressing in, the perfectly polite barbs, the crushing weight of her disappointment.

The gardens stretched out before me, glowing under the soft, silvery light of the moon, the faint rustle of leaves whispering in the breeze. I wrapped my arms around myself, staring out at the dark, shadowed treetops, trying to let the cold numb the ache in my chest.

“Sanctity of marriage,” I whispered to the empty night. “Right. Because mating is so much better.”

I closed my eyes, willing the knot in my throat to ease, but it didn’t. It never did. Not around her. Not around the constant reminder that I would always be the one who didn’t fit. The one who didn’t belong. The one who didn’t know when to shut up and be perfect.

And the worst part? It still hurt. Even after all these years.

I heard footsteps behind me, the soft crunch of gravel beneath leather shoes, and I didn’t bother turning around. “Not now, Sophie.”

A low, familiar voice answered, smooth as dark velvet. “Not Sophie.”

I turned, and there he was—Adrian, standing just a few feet away, his tall, imposing figure half-shadowed in the moonlight, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Oh, great. Exactly what I needed,” I muttered, letting my head fall back against the cool stone wall. “Come to lecture me about respecting pack traditions or something?”

“I was going to offer to take you back to the hotel,” he said, the faintest hint of amusement in his voice. “Unless you’d prefer standing out here, sulking in the cold.”

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