He Rejected The Wrong Wolf

Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Brielle’s POV

By the time dinner finally ended, Brielle was beginning to suspect that bringing Thaddeus to her grandparents’ house had somehow been both the best and worst decision anyone had made all week.

He had been polite through dinner. That should have made everything easier, except it somehow made things worse, because polite Thaddeus was much harder to stay angry with than arrogant Thaddeus. He answered Grandpa’s questions without getting defensive, listened when Grandma talked, and only smiled when Wren said something ridiculous instead of making the mistake of encouraging her out loud. It was annoying, really, how well he managed to fit into the room once everyone stopped openly trying to make him uncomfortable.

After dinner, the house settled into that warm, lived-in kind of chaos Brielle had always associated with her grandparents. Dishes clattered in the kitchen while Grandma and Grandpa argued mildly over whether anyone in the house besides Grandma knew how to load a dishwasher properly. Wren wandered between rooms with a stolen dinner roll in one hand, still laughing at her own commentary from earlier, while Thaddeus ended up near the fireplace listening to Grandma tell him a story about one of Wren’s childhood disasters. Brielle stayed near the front window, watching the capital glow beneath the evening sky.

The city looked different from up here. Strings of light hung across restaurant patios below, and traffic moved steadily through the streets like glowing ribbons between the buildings. People still crowded the sidewalks despite the hour, laughing as they passed storefronts and cafés, carrying shopping bags or coffee cups or each other’s hands. Nobody outside knew her name. Nobody cared that she had been rejected. Nobody knew about the birthday gathering or the chandelier or the way everyone back home had suddenly started watching her like she was something they couldn’t quite understand.

For the first time in days, she could breathe without feeling observed.

Wren came to stand beside her a few minutes later, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. She was quiet at first, which was usually Brielle’s first warning sign. When Wren was loud, she was manageable. When she went still, it usually meant some idea had already formed and was now looking for a victim.

Brielle didn’t even turn away from the window. “No.”

Wren made an offended sound under her breath. “I haven’t said anything.”

“You don’t have to. I can feel you making a bad decision.”

“It is not a bad decision,” Wren said, though the grin in her voice didn’t help her case. She leaned slightly closer to the glass and looked down at the streets below, her reflection bright-eyed in the window. “Look at this place. We’re in the capital, Brielle. We can’t come all this way and spend the entire first night sitting inside while Grandma interrogates Thaddeus and Grandpa pretends not to enjoy it.”

Brielle finally looked at her. “You enjoyed that more than anyone.”

“I did,” Wren admitted easily, then turned around and gestured vaguely toward the hallway like the entire city waited personally for them outside. “But now I think we should go exploring.”

“It’s late.”

“It’s the capital.”

“That is not an answer.”

“It absolutely is.” Wren tilted her head toward the window again, and against her better judgment, Brielle followed the movement. The streets below were still busy and bright, full of life in a way the territory never was after dark. Wren must have seen the hesitation on her face because her grin softened into something less teasing. “Come on. Just a walk. No pack gossip, no awkward dinner table confessions, no one looking at you like you’re about to break.”

That last part landed more quietly than the rest.

Brielle looked back out at the city. She didn’t want to admit how badly that sounded good. A walk where nobody knew her. A little distance from everything that had happened. A chance to remember what it felt like to be a person instead of a problem everyone was suddenly discussing.

“Fine,” she said at last. “A walk. That’s it.”

Wren smiled immediately, triumphant but smart enough not to overdo it. “Obviously.”

That should have been Brielle’s second warning.

They nearly made it to the front door before Grandpa’s voice stopped them.

“Where are you two going?”

Wren paused with one hand already reaching for the handle. Brielle closed her eyes for half a second because she knew exactly how this was going to go. When she turned around, Grandpa stood near the staircase with his arms folded loosely across his chest, looking far too amused for someone supposedly concerned about their safety. He already knew they were trying to leave. The question was whether Wren was about to insult everyone’s intelligence by lying badly.

Judging by the innocent smile spreading across her cousin’s face, the answer was yes.

“Nowhere,” Wren said.

Grandpa’s gaze dropped to the purse hanging from her shoulder and stayed there long enough to make the lie collapse under its own weight. “Interesting. Most people don’t take a purse when they’re going nowhere.”

For a second, Wren looked genuinely annoyed by how reasonable that was. Brielle had to look away before her laugh escaped, but Wren still caught the movement and pointed at her like she’d been betrayed.

“Don’t encourage him.”

“I’m not encouraging him,” Brielle said, fighting a smile. “You just made that too easy.”

Grandpa’s expression didn’t change, though amusement sharpened around his eyes as Wren finally sighed and admitted they wanted to walk around for a bit. He listened without interrupting, even when she argued that the city was full of people, that they were adults, and that being in the capital meant darkness apparently stopped existing as a safety concern. By the time she finished, he looked unconvinced in the calmest possible way.

“We are adults,” Wren insisted when he raised one eyebrow at her.

“Mostly,” he said.

That broke Brielle. She laughed before she could stop herself, and Wren turned on her immediately with a look of complete betrayal.

“I thought you were on my side.”

“You walked right into that one.”

For a moment, Brielle actually thought Grandpa might let them go alone. Then his attention drifted past them toward the living room, and every bit of hope she had disappeared.

Across the room, Thaddeus sat near the fireplace while Grandma told him a story that appeared to involve twelve-year-old Wren, a homemade science project, and an unfortunate amount of smoke. He looked relaxed for the first time all day, one arm resting along the side of the chair, his expression softened by a quiet smile as Grandma talked. The fact that he looked comfortable enough to laugh somehow made the situation worse.

“Thaddeus,” Grandpa called.

Wren made a strangled sound beside Brielle. “Oh no.”

Thaddeus looked up, and the moment his gaze moved from Grandpa to Brielle, something in his expression shifted with immediate understanding. He knew exactly where this was going, and worse, he looked like he might be amused by it.

“You mind taking these two for a walk?” Grandpa asked.

Wren lost whatever composure she had left. She bent forward laughing so hard she had to brace one hand against the wall, while Grandma stood near the living room doorway looking far too pleased with herself. Brielle, meanwhile, stared at her grandfather in disbelief.

“We don’t need a babysitter.”

“No,” Grandpa agreed easily, not even pretending this was about anything other than his own entertainment now. “But it’ll make me feel better.”

That answer might have sounded convincing if he hadn’t looked so proud of himself.

Twenty minutes later, Brielle found herself walking through the capital with Wren on one side and Thaddeus a few steps behind them, which was somehow exactly as ridiculous as it sounded.

The city felt completely different at street level. Warm evening air moved between the buildings, carrying the smell of coffee, fresh bread, rain-damp pavement, and whatever someone was grilling from a food cart on the corner. Music spilled from open restaurant patios, laughter echoed from rooftop bars above them, and street performers gathered small crowds beneath strings of lights that crossed between buildings. Everywhere Brielle looked, people moved with purpose, too busy with their own lives to notice three wolves from another territory walking among them.

For once, being unnoticed felt wonderful.

Wren was delighted by everything. She slowed in front of a bakery just to stare through the window, then got distracted by a rooftop garden visible above a narrow side street, then stopped again near a fountain where a performer was playing violin for a small crowd. Each time, Brielle tried to pretend she was annoyed, but the truth was she liked watching Wren this happy. After days of tension, gossip, and heavy conversations, seeing her cousin practically vibrate with excitement made the entire trip feel worth it.

Then Wren stopped so abruptly that Brielle nearly walked straight into her.

Across the street stood the largest bookstore Brielle had ever seen. The building rose three floors high, with wide front windows glowing warm against the evening and shelves visible all the way up the walls inside. Wren stared at it like she had just discovered sacred ground.

Brielle sighed before her cousin even opened her mouth. “No.”

Wren looked personally wounded. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“You were going to say you’ll be right back, then disappear inside for an hour.”

“First of all, rude. Second of all, probably accurate.”

Thaddeus made a quiet sound behind them that might have been a laugh, which only encouraged Wren. Before Brielle could grab her arm, her cousin was already stepping toward the crosswalk, calling over her shoulder that she only needed five minutes.

“You said that at the bakery,” Brielle called after her.

“And I was wrong then too.”

Then she disappeared through the bookstore doors without even trying to look guilty.

For a moment, Brielle just stood there on the sidewalk and stared after her. People flowed around them, conversations blending with traffic and music and the low pulse of the city. Beside her, Thaddeus stopped close enough that she was aware of him without needing to look.

“She planned that,” he said.

Brielle closed her eyes briefly. “She absolutely planned that.”

His quiet laugh slipped into the space between them, low and genuine, and despite every reasonable part of herself warning against it, Brielle smiled too. The city lights reflected off the wet pavement around them, and for once the silence didn’t feel awkward or heavy. It felt almost easy.

That was the problem.

Back home, it had been easier to stay angry. There were too many people watching, too many reminders, too many sharp edges around everything that had happened between them. Here, with strangers moving around them and the city humming like a living thing, she kept catching glimpses of someone different.

Or maybe not different.

Maybe just someone she’d never allowed herself to see before.

And that was far more dangerous than she wanted to admit.