MATED TO TWO RIVAL ALPHAS

The Night She Came Back

CHAPTER FOUR- The Night She Came Back

SHERRY.

The black SUV slows as the gates of the Blood Moon estate come into view. Gravel shifts under the tires. I keep my hands still in my lap and watch the familiar stone pillars pass.

One year ago I left this place in the dark with dirt on my dress and the sound of Eric’s voice still in my ears. Tonight the windows are open, and the air smells of cut grass and the same humid Florida night I have always known.

Mia turns in the passenger seat. “You can still change your mind, and we can go get tacos instead.”

I almost smile. “You drove two hours for tacos?”

“I drove two hours for you. The tacos would just be a bonus.” She studies my face the way she has since we were twelve. “You okay?”

“I’m here.”

That is as much truth as I have right now. The rest will arrive when it arrives.

I chose the emerald dress this afternoon because the color made me feel steady when I looked in the mirror. The back is open. The slit on one side is higher than anything I would have worn before. My hair is down. None of it is armor. It is simply the way I wanted to walk into the room.

The first few months out there were tougher than I thought. Albert retired the two trainers he sent, and they didn’t care I was the Alpha’s daughter. Their only concern was that I could not hold a defensive stance for even thirty seconds without my shoulders shaking. They were more worried that I flinched when someone moved too fast in my side vision. My body was so sore after the first three weeks, in places I could never have thought would hurt. I was learning how to fall without panicking and how to get back up without waiting for someone to give me a hand. The ache became familiar during the fourth month, and in the eighth, I stopped counting the bruises.

Mia falls into step beside me. “If anyone says something stupid, I’m allowed to spill a drink on them. Just so we’re clear.”

“Noted.”

We cross the threshold together.

The first few people by the entrance are still chatting when one looks up and the conversation tapers off. Another follows their gaze and the hush moves outward in uneven rings until it reaches me and the music seems too loud. I keep walking. I have the same posture the trainers taught me until it became second nature. Until it was the only way to stand.

Someone near the bar says my name like a question. I do not answer.

Viktor notices me in the room; I can see he is with two members of the council, mid-sentence when he catches my gaze and the other part of the conversation vanishes. He politely leaves the others and starts moving towards me, his long strides covering the space between us rapidly, as if nothing had changed, the same resolute speed as before, except that he looks at me as if trying to estimate the distance between the girl I was before and the girl I am now.

He pulls me into a hug that smells like the soap he has used for years. When he steps back, his smile is wide and a little stunned.

“You look good,” he says. “Really good. Happy birthday, Sher.”

“Thanks, Vik.”

He keeps one hand on my shoulder a second longer. “You stand differently.”

“I had to learn how. The trainers were not gentle about it.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “Good. You needed people who wouldn’t let you hide.”

Camilla approaches next. She stops a few feet away and takes in the dress, the way I am holding myself, the fact that I am not looking at the floor. For a brief moment, her carefully arranged expression slips. Then she recovers.

“The city agreed with you,” she says. “You finally look like you belong in this room.”

“I always belonged,” I answer. “I just stopped waiting for permission.”

Her mouth tightens. Before she can reply, my father is there. Albert’s arms close around me without ceremony. He holds on longer than anyone else has. When he lets go, his eyes are bright.

“You’re home,” he says simply.

“I am.”

A familiar voice cuts through the space behind me.

“Hey. Guest of honor.”

I turn.

Eric stands a few paces away in a black suit that fits the way everything has always fit him. Hazel is on his arm, her red dress bright against his side. For one second his face is exactly as I remember it from a year ago—confident, certain of his place. Then his eyes finish the journey from my face to the rest of me and the certainty fractures.

He goes still. The easy set of his shoulders changes. Hazel’s fingers tighten on his sleeve.

“Sherry,” he says. The name comes out quieter than I expect.

“Beta Eric. Hazel.” I keep my voice even. “Thank you for coming.”

Hazel’s smile is thin. “We weren’t sure you’d make it. You were always so… quiet about these things.”

“I used to be.”

Eric takes a half step forward before he seems to catch himself. His gaze keeps catching on details, the line of my shoulders, the way I am not looking away, and then pulling back as if he is not allowed to look for long.

“You look different,” he says.

“A year is a long time.”

Some nights in the city the hurt of the rejection was so deep that it caused me to wake at 3 o'clock in the morning. During those nights, I'd leave the house and do the exercises until my legs could no longer support me and the echo of his speech would lose some of its sharpness. I did not practice to please the others in the room. My training was solely for the time when someone else would once again try to assess my value; I would already know the answer myself.

“Can we talk?” Eric asks. “Just for a minute.”

I take the glass Mia has quietly pressed into my hand. The champagne is cold against my palm. “I’m celebrating my birthday. That’s what I’m here for.”

Something moves across his face, regret, or the beginning of it. He does not push further. Hazel watches the exchange with the tight attention of someone who has just realized the ground under her feet is less solid than she thought.

The air in the hall shifts before I hear the new footsteps.

Conversation near the entrance changes pitch. A few of the younger wolves glance toward the doors and then find the floor interesting. Viktor’s posture hardens beside me.

I know the scent before I fully turn.

It is the exact same dry, sharp scent of woodland as one year back, sun-warmed stone with a hint of rain. I am so glad to see that after being silent mostly throughout the night, my wolf finally decides to open her mouth.

Jax makes his way into the room with the kind of ease that indicates ownership of the place. His charcoal suit is impeccably tailored to his form. His hands had brushed his dark hair backward, and now the scar that runs along his jaw seems a lot more prominent in the lights than it was in the tree-shadowing of the woods. He was not the type to look around, to check for others. Instead, with just a glance or two, his eyes settled on me and didn't move away,

Viktor steps slightly forward. “Alpha Jax. This is a private celebration.”

Jax holds up a silver-edged card without looking away from me. “Your mother sent an invitation. I accepted.”

Camilla moves quickly to his side, her smile careful. “We are building bridges, Viktor. Alpha Jax is a guest.”

Jax continues walking until he is close enough that the rest of the room feels farther away. He ignores Eric completely. When he speaks, the words are meant for me.

“Happy birthday, Sherry.”

The sound of my name in his voice is exactly as I remember it from the clearing. I have thought about that night more often than I planned to over the past twelve months—the way he stood, the fact that he already knew who I was, the calm way he left when Viktor’s footsteps approached. None of those thoughts prepared me for standing in the same room with him again.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I say.

“I go where the invitation takes me.” His gaze travels over my face, then the dress, then back to my eyes. There is no rush in it. “You look like someone who kept the promise she made to herself in the woods.”

The observation lands closer than a compliment would have. I do not step back.

Eric’s voice cuts in, rougher than before. “That’s enough. She’s Blood Moon. You don’t get to walk in here and--”

Jax turns his head just enough to acknowledge him. The temperature of the air seems to drop a degree. “She is standing right here, Beta. She can speak for herself.”

Eric’s hands curl at his sides. Hazel has gone very still beside him.

I take a slow sip of champagne and look between them. The old ache that lives under my ribs when I see Eric is still there, quieter than it used to be but not gone. Beside it sits the unsettled curiosity Jax has always left behind.

“Alpha Jax is a guest,” I say. “He can stay.”

Eric’s expression tightens. Jax’s mouth moves in the smallest suggestion of approval, then smooths again.

Before anyone can speak further, the double doors at the far end of the hall open a second time.

A new presence rolls into the room, heavy enough that the nearest conversations die mid-sentence. Several wolves near the back wall shift their weight as if the floor has tilted. Viktor’s head snaps toward the entrance. Even Jax’s attention leaves me for the first time since he arrived.

Another Alpha has just crossed the threshold.