A faint, tired smile touched my lips. “No. I won’t need protection where I’m headed.”
He looked puzzled—and that was good. He didn’t understand that I was already saying goodbye. He only gave a small nod and limped away toward his quarters, leaving a trail of dirt and silence in his wake.
The next morning dawned too still, the sky painfully clear—as if mocking me.
I met my closest friends at the VIP lounge, calling it a small celebration. None of them knew it was my farewell. The laughter, the music, the champagne—it all sounded hollow, like echoes from a dream I no longer lived in.
“To Alpha Thoren!” someone toasted, raising their glass high. “May his wedding with Lyra be smooth and scandal-free!”
Lindsay snorted. “Oh please, if that man wakes up and realizes he’s married to you, he’ll probably faint from disbelief.”
I laughed softly, the sound empty. “Maybe he already has.”
Her expression sobered. “Becca, this isn’t right. Elowen? After everything she’s done? And your father—he’s using you as a pawn in a feud that isn’t even his fight.”
“It won’t matter soon,” I murmured into my drink.
Lindsay’s brow furrowed. “We’ll still see you, won’t we?”