The Mate Switch

CHAPTER 3.

He didn’t stop staring at her, even as the entire family gathered around the table to eat. His eyes only made her wobble, and uncertain. She was making all sorts of mistakes, earning her harsh looks from Luna Iris.

She was definitely going to suffer for it after the brunch was over.

When she was sure she’d attended to their every desire, she snuck away to call her father’s beta, who was also like an uncle to her.

“Uncle Louis, how is she?”

“Still unconscious. She keeps having an allergic reaction to the medication, her body is fighting the infections from the silver mixed in her blood,” he said, breathing heavily. “Gigi, I don’t want you to get your hopes up. Things might not work out the way you want.”

Giselle sighed, blinking back tears. “No, my sister is a fighter. She’ll make it. I didn’t go through all this trouble to find her just to lose her again. Uncle Louis, please, do whatever it takes to save her. Use whatever resources needed.”

“Gi—”

“That’s an order!” she snapped. “I have to go. I’m so close to finding out who did this to her. I just know it.”

“And what about your parents?”

“They think I’m off visiting your son. Keep it that way.”

Without waiting for a response, she ended the call, struggling to breathe. She can’t die. Gloria can’t die. Because then she’d have to reign down hell on whoever was responsible, alongside their families, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone.

For the most part, Valemont and Darkhowl weren’t at each other’s throats. They weren’t allies, but they were civil. If she did anything too rash, she could destroy the peace. She just needed to find who was responsible, and single them out.

“What are you sitting around here for?” Luna Iris was suddenly by her side, pulling her by the hair. “You lazy, good for nothing rodent. All you do is take advantage of our kindness.”

Giselle frowned. What f*****g kindness? She was basically treated like trash, or less. In order to maintain her façade, she kept her head down and said nothing.

“Can’t you see we have an extra guest?” the Luna continued. “Get upstairs and fix his room. Make sure there are clean sheets and not a speck of dust.”

Giselle moved quickly, hurrying up the stairs to locate the room she’d dumped the stranger’s bags. She slipped into the guest room, closing the door quietly behind her. The scent of pine and smoke still lingered from his bags, teasing her heightened senses and stirring the bond she desperately wished to ignore.

Shaking her head, she forced herself to focus, pulling off the old sheets and replacing them with crisp, fresh linens. Every movement was quick and precise—muscle memory from days of training under her father, though this menial work was beneath her.

As she dusted the dresser, muffled voices drifted from the hallway. She froze, her wolf perking up.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

She froze as Elias’s voice sifted through the door. What is he doing here? Dropping the pillow she’d been fluffing, she tiptoed closer to the door, listening attentively.

“We don’t have a choice,” a familiar sultry tone whispered sharply. The red head. “We need to get rid of him or everything we’ve worked for will be ruined.”

The handle of the door turned. Giselle quickly headed into the nearby closet to hide. There was the faint creak of the door opening, she slipped further into the shadows. Elias stepped in first, followed closely by the woman, their scents instantly souring the air.

“Now what?” Elias scoffed.

“Search his bags,” his companion replied, rather harshly, almost like she was tired of having to come up with all the answers.

“And what exactly are we looking for?”

“Anything that tells us why he’s back.”

From a small space on the door, Giselle could see almost everything going on in the room. She could see how worried they were, how desperate.

“This is a waste of time.”

The red head furrowed her brows. “That’s the same thing you said about Gloria. Why do I always have to do everything?”

“I was right about that, wasn’t I?” Elias countered. “She’s still here. Alive. Or am I the only one who noticed that?”

She hissed, pacing the room. “We’ll deal with Gloria later. After all, she’s just a lowly omega. I can handle her. We have more pressing matters.”

Giselle’s jaw tightened, nails digging into her palms. Omega. That was all her sister was to them. Nothing more than dirt beneath their shoes.

“And if she talks?”

“She won’t,” the lady smirked. “Trust me, my love. I’ve already taken care of that. Now search. Hurry!”

Somewhat satisfied with her assurance, Elias turned his back on her and began to look through the bags scattered across the floor.

“Celeste, over here,” he called out after a few minutes.

Celeste. The name of the devil who might be the reason her sister was stuck in a coma. She restrained herself from jumping out and tearing into her supple skin.

“What?”

Giselle couldn’t clearly see what Elias was showing his partner in crime, but judging from the gasp that escaped her lips, she was sure they weren’t happy about it.

“Do you know what this means?”

“This isn’t just a visit,” Celeste answered. “He—”

Before she could complete her sentence, Elias dumped whatever he was holding and yanked her away from the bag, just as the knob twisted and the door came open.

As they came face to face with the mysterious man, Giselle almost wished he hadn’t entered when he did. Because now, she didn’t know what those two were up to or what they were planning. But she was sure of one thing.

They were both involved in Gloria’s attempted murder.

“Enrique,” Elias spoke first, casually, but his body language tense.

“Enrique,” Giselle muttered the name under her breath, her lips twitching upwards before she caught herself.

“Elias.” Enrique’s response was flat, cool, his sharp golden eyes flicking between the two of them and the half-ransacked luggage. The air in the room filled with hostility.

Celeste, quickly recovering, flashed a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “We were just… uh, checking to make sure everything was perfect for you,” she said smoothly, stepping closer to Elias, her hand resting on his arm innocently.

“Were you?” Enrique’s tone was calm but laced with suspicion, his gaze narrowing. “Funny. I don’t remember you being so helpful.”

Elias scoffed, straightening. “No need for insults, Enrique. We’re just trying to be hospitable.”

Enrique’s jaw flexed, his smile sharp. “Hospitable. Right.” He let the word hang in the air, his voice carrying an edge that made even Celeste flinch. “Next time, don’t touch what’s not yours.”

For a moment, nobody moved. The tension was thick enough to choke on, and Giselle, still crouched in the dark closet, barely dared to breathe.

Finally, Enrique stepped aside, gesturing toward the door. “You can leave now.”

Elias glared at him but said nothing, storming out with Celeste trailing behind. The sound of their footsteps faded down the hall, leaving the room in silence.

Giselle stayed frozen, her heart hammering against her ribcage. She didn’t know if she should stay hidden or slip out quietly later. Every instinct screamed at her to wait until Enrique left.

But then she shifted awkwardly.

In her panic to adjust her footing, her elbow smacked against the closet wall, the noise echoing in the silence. She clapped a hand over her mouth, shook.

The room went deathly still. Then came the slow, deliberate sound of approaching footsteps.

Her wolf howled in alarm, her pulse racing, but she stayed silent, praying he’d dismiss it. Seconds ticked by like hours. Nothing happened. She exhaled shakily, relief washing over her. Maybe he thought it was nothing. Maybe—

The closet door swung open.

A gasp ripped from her throat as her wide eyes met Enrique’s piercing gaze. He stood there, filling the doorway, his expression undecipherable but his eyes burning with curiosity.

“So,” he murmured, voice low and dangerous. “Care to tell me why you’re hiding in my room?”