#Chapter 60: Old Wounds

Emily I told myself I was going for the Pack. But really, I went because staying behind would’ve felt like defeat. After the audit whispers and Julian’s carefully neutral concern, I needed to be seen. Needed to remind myself I wasn’t crumbling, no matter what the tabloids or staff thought. Still, as the car pulled up to the charity gala, my palms itched. The kind of itch that came before a shift that never arrived. The kind that warned you something was coming, even if you didn’t know what. Light from a hundred chandeliers glittered across polished marble, too bright. And gaudy as hell. I tugged at the edge of my sleeve as I passed the front steps, offering a polite nod to the noble who greeted me at the top. Tonight was another one of those formal affairs where the food was small, the smiles were fake, and the rumors flowed faster than the wine. Logan was across the room, already being pulled into conversation by a few older Alphas. I hadn’t meant to separate from him