Prologue
Prologue
The Reception
The Grand Aurelia Hotel glittered beneath a sea of crystal chandeliers.
Golden light cascaded from the vaulted ceilings like liquid sunlight, catching on polished marble floors and towering arrangements of white roses. A string quartet played near the grand staircase, their music weaving through the hum of conversation and laughter.
Tonight was a celebration.
The reception of Evelyn Hartwell.
The girl who had once been the only friend shared by two boys who no longer spoke.
Now a beautiful omega at twenty-five, Evelyn stood at the center of the ballroom in an ivory gown, greeting guests beside her new husband, Julian Whitmore, a respected alpha from one of the oldest families in the country.
Everyone seemed happy.
Everyone except two men standing at opposite ends of the room.
Neither knew the other had come because of him.
---
Near the champagne tower, Asher Lancaster adjusted the collar of his black suit.
Or rather, attempted to.
The thing was trying to strangle him.
"Stop murdering your tie."
His cousin, Leo Lancaster, slapped his hand away.
"It has done nothing wrong."
"I hate formal events."
"You hate leaving your house."
"Also true."
Leo snorted.
"You realize half the ballroom is staring at you?"
Asher rolled his eyes.
"Why?"
"Because you never come to these things."
That was true.
Asher hated galas.
Hated receptions.
Hated networking dinners.
Hated every event where people smiled too much and said too little.
Yet here he was.
Standing in the middle of a reception.
Looking toward the entrance every five minutes.
Waiting.
His gaze drifted there again.
Empty.
Still.
Nothing.
His jaw tightened.
Maybe he wasn't coming.
Maybe Evelyn had been mistaken.
Maybe—
The ballroom doors opened.
Everything inside Asher froze.
---
Rien Valois entered the room.
Ten years.
Ten years had passed.
Yet somehow everyone recognized him immediately.
Conversations stumbled.
Heads turned.
Whispers spread.
"Is that..."
"Valois?"
"He's back?"
"I thought he was still overseas."
"No one has seen him in years."
"God, he looks different."
"Not really."
"He does."
"He doesn't."
The whispers multiplied.
Rien ignored every single one.
Just as he always had.
He moved through the crowd with quiet confidence, dressed in a charcoal suit that fit him perfectly.
His dark hair was slightly longer than before.
His shoulders broader.
His features sharper.
But his expression remained the same.
Calm.
Controlled.
Unreadable.
The same face Asher had spent ten years wanting to punch.
And missing.
Not necessarily in that order.
---
Across the ballroom, Rien spotted Evelyn.
Relief immediately loosened the tension in his chest.
She looked happy.
Genuinely happy.
Good.
That was good.
That meant everything was fine.
That meant she hadn't settled.
That meant she loved her husband.
Which was exactly what Rien had hoped.
Because if Evelyn was happy...
Then perhaps Asher would finally move on.
His chest tightened unexpectedly.
The thought hurt far more than it should.
He ignored it.
Like he had been ignoring it for ten years.
Then his eyes moved through the crowd.
And found him.
Asher.
For a moment the entire ballroom disappeared.
No music.
No voices.
Nothing.
Just him.
Twenty-five years old.
Standing exactly where Rien had imagined a thousand times.
Asher looked older.
Stronger.
His golden-brown hair remained as unruly as ever.
His smile was gone.
The easy boyishness had faded.
In its place stood a man.
A breathtakingly handsome alpha who looked entirely out of place in a formal ballroom.
And entirely at home in Rien's memories.
Their eyes met.
The air shifted.
Ten years vanished.
Neither smiled.
Neither moved.
Neither looked away.
Then Asher broke eye contact first.
Rien immediately looked down.
Coward.
Ten years and he was still a coward.
---
Asher took a long drink of champagne.
Then another.
Then another.
Leo grabbed the glass away.
"No."
"What?"
"No."
"I wasn't doing anything."
"You were staring."
Asher glared.
Leo sighed.
"Still?"
"What does that mean?"
"It means it's been ten years."
Asher laughed humorlessly.
"Apparently not."
---
Meanwhile, across the ballroom.
Rien stood beside his younger sister, Camille Valois.
Camille followed his gaze.
Immediately.
Because she had known her brother for twenty-three years.
"Oh."
Rien looked away instantly.
Camille groaned.
"You are still doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"This."
Rien remained silent.
Camille stared.
Then stared harder.
Then looked at Asher.
Then back at Rien.
Then back at Asher.
Then back at Rien.
"You are unbelievable."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You've loved him for half your life."
Rien nearly choked on absolutely nothing.
Camille smiled sweetly.
"The fact you're blushing proves my point."
"I am not."
"You are."
"I am not."
"You are."
Rien abandoned the conversation entirely.
Camille looked delighted.
---
Near the stage, Evelyn spotted both of them.
And immediately regretted existing.
For ten years.
Ten entire years.
Ten years of this.
She had spent a decade watching two idiots misunderstand each other.
And apparently tonight would be no different.
"What's wrong?"
Julian asked.
Evelyn pointed.
Julian followed her finger.
His eyes widened.
"Oh."
"Exactly."
"Still?"
"Exactly."
Julian winced.
"That's painful."
"Exactly."
"Should we help?"
Evelyn immediately shook her head.
"No."
"Why?"
"They need to suffer."
---
The music changed.
Guests drifted toward the dance floor.
Laughter filled the room.
Champagne sparkled.
The celebration continued beautifully.
Yet neither Asher nor Rien was paying attention.
Asher watched Rien from across the ballroom.
So he came.
Ten years away and he comes back for her reception.
The thought burned.
Of course he would.
She had always been the reason.
Hadn't she?
---
Meanwhile Rien watched Asher.
He really came.
Asher hates events like this.
The only reason he'd attend is because Evelyn is important to him.
A familiar ache settled in his chest.
Good.
Good.
If Asher still loved her...
Then maybe he could finally stop hoping.
Maybe.
One day.
---
Across the ballroom, Evelyn accidentally made eye contact with both of them simultaneously.
The omega closed her eyes.
Counted to ten.
Opened them again.
Nothing had changed.
The idiots were still staring at each other.
Not her.
Each other.
Just as they had for fifteen years.
Neither realizing it.
And Evelyn suddenly felt a powerful urge to throw her wedding cake at both of them.
