Chapter 27
After failing to sway Alistair, Aveline left the gathering defeated, heading home with heavy steps. As soon as she walked in, she spotted a new message from Maren lighting up her phone.
“I’m so sorry, Aveline. I never should have pushed you to change. If it weren’t for me, Alistair wouldn’t have misunderstood everything. This is on me. I handled it all wrong and ended up making things worse for you.”
Aveline read the message and let out a weary sigh. It wasn’t just the clothes–Alistair had always viewed her through a lens of suspicion.
She began typing a response. “Don’t worry, Maren. None of this is on you.” If Alistair doubted her, then she’d make damn sure he saw what she was capable of. She’d prove herself with the same grit and honesty she’d relied on all along.
Maren’s reply came quickly, weighted with guilt. “Aveline, I only thought maybe if you dressed differently, Alistair might actually notice your efforts “Now, looking back, she felt like an idiot.
Alistair’s logic was impossible to pin down.
“No, really, it’s all right, Maren. I know you had the best intentions. I appreciate you helping arrange my meeting with Alpha Alistair today,” Aveline typed back. Whatever happened, she couldn’t hold it against Maren; the girl had only wanted to help.
Seeing Aveline’s patient reply, Maren finally let herself relax, though a hint of guilt still gnawed at her. She silently vowed to set the record straight if Alistair’s impression of Aveline had soured because of her meddling.
Once the messages were sent, Aveline set her phone aside and began getting ready for bed.
Just then, the front door was shoved open hard, and Jaxson stepped inside, trailing a sharp wave of alcohol.
Aveline’s brow creased automatically. It was so late–she hadn’t expected him home tonight.
Jaxson’s head hung low, messy bangs nearly obscuring his face.
Without a word, he fumbled the door shut and lurched across the room, each stride loose and unsteady as he headed straight for her.
When he drew near, a vivid smear of red lipstick caught her eye on his collar.
Now standing this close, Aveline couldn’t ignore the harsh mix of alcohol and some stinging perfume wafting off him, making her nose prickle uncomfortably.
Her wolf snarled in her consciousness, recoiling from Jaxson’s touch–it carried the stench of another woman, a violation against their fated bond.
She stepped back instinctively, trying not to sneeze, but Jaxson’s hand shot out and clamped down on her arm, his fingers digging in.
He leaned close, invading her space. “All day gone without a trace, Aveline–what were you up to?”
She answered promptly, her voice cold and steady. “I was in the research lab. Is there a problem? Honestly, the way you smell right now is making me feel sick.”
Jaxson held her gaze, his expression unreadable.
She kept her composure, showing no trace of alarm. Nothing in her expression betrayed a lie, and Jaxson, rubbing his forehead, finally let go of her
arm.
“Alright, then.” Maybe he’d been overthinking things.
Aveline slipped from his grasp and made her way upstairs to the study.
10.14
Betrayed by Her Ex. Marked By the Alpha King
86.7%
Chapter 27
Across town, Alistair lounged in the heart of the lively gathering, a glass of champagne balanced in his hand as he sank into the sofa, quietly surveying the room like an outsider.
Silas Acosta, the head of a research lab, spotted Alistair alone and wandered over, swirling his own wine. “Alpha Alistair, I heard you’re handpicking people for the new project. I’ve been around the institute a long time–would you like me to introduce a few candidates?”
Alistair regarded Silas for a moment, then dipped his head in a slow nod. “Go ahead.”
With an easy smile, Silas launched into introductions, breezing through the first few team members with polished, bite–sized summaries.
The name “Aveline” seemed to flip a switch–suddenly, he was all enthusiasm.
“Alpha Alistair, Aveline’s the standout here–no contest. She’s picked up a shelf of awards since college, and her academic work pops up all over the web. Having her on the team is a real asset. She’s the one behind that award–winning paper on biologically active factors.”
Alistair paused with his champagne halfway to his lips, caught off guard by the revelation.
He remembered the paper well–it had made waves across several fields, with results that spoke for themselves.
Back then, he’d scoured the journal, but the author’s identity had been left out. So she’d been the one to write it all along?
His mind wandered, recalling the unexpected softness of her touch earlier. Maybe he’d gone too far in how he’d treated her today.
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