Rejected: Her Revenge Plan

Chapter 4: Double Game

Elara POV

The rest of the day crawled by in painful slow motion.

I returned to my apartment, a small one-bedroom in the center of Moonville that I had moved into six months ago when Julian and I got serious. Everything here reminded me of him. The coffee maker he had bought me. The throw pillows we had picked out together. The framed photo on my nightstand of us at last year's pack gathering, both smiling like we had forever.

I turned the photo face down and grabbed my laptop.

If I was going to do this—really commit to working with Xavier then I needed to be smart about it. Careful. One wrong move and I would expose myself, endanger my family, possibly start a war between packs.

No pressure.

I pulled up my father's calendar, which he had shared with family members years ago and never bothered to restrict. Meetings, appointments, conference calls all laid out in neat little blocks of time.

There it was. Tomorrow at two PM. "Lunch - Sterling Hotel - GT."

GT. Gregory Thorne. The man from Xavier's photographs. The broker Celeste had been meeting with.

My stomach churned. Xavier had been right. My father was meeting with the same person connected to Celeste, to whatever conspiracy was unfolding around us.

I took screenshots, then opened a new document and started typing everything I could remember about my father's recent activities. Late night phone calls. Closed-door meetings. The tension I had noticed between him and our alpha over the past few weeks.

Details I had dismissed as normal pack business suddenly felt sinister.

My phone rang. Julian's name flashed on the screen.

I let it go to voicemail.

He called again. Then again. On the fourth call, I answered.

"What, Julian?"

"Elara. Thank god. I've been trying to reach you all day." His voice was strained, desperate. "Please, we need to talk. In person. There's so much I need to explain."

"I'm not ready to see you."

"I understand. I do. But this can't wait." He paused. "It's about Celeste. About what she did to me. I have proof."

That got my attention. "Proof of what?"

"Not over the phone, meet me at Crescent Park in an hour. Please, Elara. If you ever loved me, give me this one chance."

The manipulation in those words was so obvious that it almost made me laugh. If I ever loved him. As if my love was ever in question. As if he hadn't shredded it without a second thought.

But Xavier wanted information. And Julian apparently had proof about Celeste.

"One hour," I said. "But if this is some kind of trick…”

"It's not. I swear on the pack. One hour."

He hung up before I could change my mind.

I immediately texted Xavier: "Julian wants to meet. Says he has proof about Celeste. Should I go?"

The response came within seconds: "Yes. Record everything. I'll have someone nearby in case things go wrong."

The thought of Xavier having me followed should have bothered me more than it did. Instead, I felt oddly comforted. Someone was watching my back, even if his motives were purely selfish.

I changed into jeans and a jacket, checked that my phone was fully charged, and headed out.

Crescent Park sat on the western edge of pack territory, a sprawling green space with walking trails and a small pond. Julian and I used to come here on Sunday mornings, walking hand in hand, talking about our future.

Now the memories felt like poison.

I arrived early, parking where I could see the main pavilion. Julian's truck was already there, which meant he had arrived even earlier.

Good. Let him sweat.

At exactly one hour from his call, I walked to the pavilion. Julian stood with his back to the pond, hands shoved in his pockets, looking more disheveled than I had ever seen him. His usually neat hair was messy, his clothes rumpled, and dark circles shadowed his eyes.

He looked like hell.

Also good.

"Elara." He stepped toward me, but stopped when I held up my hand.

"Keep your distance. Say what you need to say."

Pain crossed his face. "Fair enough." He pulled out his phone. "I need you to see something."

He tapped the screen, then held it out. A video began playing.

The footage was grainy, clearly from a security camera. It showed Celeste entering a building I didn't recognize, meeting with an older woman in what looked like an office. The woman handed Celeste a small vial of something.

Julian fast-forwarded. The next clip showed Celeste in what I recognized as the Moonville pack house, slipping something into a glass of whiskey. My stomach turned as I watched Julian enter the frame, accept the glass, and drink.

"She drugged you," I whispered.

"Some kind of supernatural enhancer. It makes the drinker susceptible to suggestion, lowers inhibitions, and amplifies attraction." His voice was hollow. "I didn't fall for her naturally, Elara. She made me fall for her."

I wanted to feel vindicated or relieved. This proved Julian had been manipulated, that his rejection wasn't entirely his fault.

But it didn't erase what he had said. What he had done.

"How long have you known?" I asked.

"Since this morning. I found the security footage while going through the pack house records. I've been completely clear-headed since she left yesterday, and I started questioning everything." He stepped closer. "Elara, I'm so sorry. I know that doesn't fix anything, but you have to believe me, none of it was real. My feelings for her, the things I said to you, all of it was manufactured."

"Where did you get the footage?"

"Pack security archives. I have access as the future alpha."

"Can I have a copy?"

He blinked, surprised. "Of course. I'll send it to you right now." His fingers moved across his phone screen. "But why.. "

"Because I need proof too. Proof that you're telling the truth." My phone buzzed with the video file. "This could be fabricated. Staged to manipulate me into taking you back."

"It's not. I swear, Elara. Every word I'm saying is true."

I studied his face, looking for signs of deception. All I saw was desperation and regret.

"Who's the woman in the video? The one who gave Celeste the vial?"

"I don't know. I've never seen her before. But I'm going to find out." His gray eyes met mine. "I'm going to find everyone involved in this and make them pay for what they did to us."

Us. As if we were still a unit.

"What about Celeste? Where is she now?"

"Back in Silverpine. She left yesterday right after—" He stopped, jaw clenching. "Right after I rejected you."

Very nice. It’s clear that she had completed her mission and disappeared.

"I want to reverse the rejection," Julian said, his voice urgent. "I want to fix this, Elara. We have thirty days. Please tell me I haven't lost you forever."

This was the moment. The choice Xavier had laid before me in the diner.

Did I still want Julian? Could I forgive what he had done, even if it was under supernatural influence?

"I need time," I said finally. "To process this and to figure out what I want."

"How much time?"

"I don't know. But pushing me won't help your cause."

He nodded, defeated. "Okay. I understand. Just please don't shut me out completely. Let me prove that I'm worth a second chance."

I turned to leave, then stopped. "Julian? That woman in the video. Find out who she is. Because I think she's just one piece of a much bigger picture."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing. Just find her."

I walked back to my car, feeling his eyes on me the whole way. Once inside, I sat for a moment, processing everything.

Julian had been drugged. Manipulated. His rejection wasn't entirely his choice.

But he had still said those words. He still hurt me in ways that couldn't be undone by explanations or apologies.

A text message entered, It was Xavier: "Well?"

I forwarded him the video file. "Julian was drugged. Some kind of supernatural enhancer. He has security footage."

Three dots appeared, then disappeared. Then it appeared again.

Finally: "Interesting. This changes things. See you tonight at 8."

I drove toward home, but found myself taking a detour past the Sterling Hotel. Tomorrow at two PM, my father will be here, meeting with Gregory Thorne.

And I was going to find out why.

Whatever this conspiracy was, whoever was pulling the strings, had made a fatal mistake.

They had hurt me. And now I was going to hurt them back.