The Alpha Who Broke Me

CHAPTER EIGHT

KAIA

I smooth down the midnight blue dress Talia insisted I borrow and take a deep breath before stepping out of her car. The Grand Lyceum looms ahead of us, its neoclassical columns strung with thousands of white lights that cast everything in a warm, magical glow.

The full moon hangs directly overhead, massive and silver, making my wolf stir restlessly beneath my skin.

"You look incredible," Talia says, linking her arm through mine. She's wearing a stunning emerald green gown that brings out her dark eyes. "Thank you for coming with me. These kingdom galas are insufferable when you're flying solo."

I adjust the delicate straps of the dress, feeling exposed in the elegant fabric. "I still can't believe you talked me into this." I'd almost canceled twice today, worried about leaving Mom alone for the evening. But she'd insisted she was having a good day and practically pushed me out the door, saying I needed to live a little.

"It's the werewolf kingdom's formal full moon gala, Kaia. Every Alpha from the western territories will be here, plus the royal court." She squeezes my arm. "Besides, you need to get out more. All you do is work and take care of your mom."

The sound of laughter and conversation drifts from the grand building as we approach the main entrance. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I can see wolves in formal attire from dozens of different packs mingling with champagne glasses, the epitome of supernatural high society.

The moment we enter the grand ballroom, I feel every eye turn toward us. Or more specifically, toward me.

The room falls into a subtle hush. I catch whispered conversations behind gloved hands, see the slight frowns of disapproval, the raised eyebrows of surprise. An omega at the formal kingdom gala, wearing designer clothing and walking with an Alpha's daughter like an equal.

The stares feel different somehow, more intense than the usual omega-dismissal I'm used to. Some wolves tilt their heads slightly when I pass, like they're trying to catch my scent.

It reminds me of Jake Reeves in the parking garage—the way he'd suddenly backed down after breathing in my scent, looking confused and almost... respectful?

"Ignore them," Talia murmurs, but I can feel the weight of their stares like physical touches.

The ballroom is spectacular. Crystal chandeliers hang from the vaulted ceiling, casting prismatic light across the polished marble floors. Everything screams wealth and status.

I spot familiar faces scattered throughout the crowd but it's the figure across the room that makes my breath catch.

Vincent stands near the far wall, surrounded by a group of pack alpha’s. He's wearing a perfectly tailored black tuxedo that emphasizes his broad shoulders and lean build. His dark hair is styled back, revealing the sharp angles of his face, and when he turns slightly, I catch the glint of gold cufflinks at his wrists.

He's devastating. Absolutely devastating.

Our eyes meet across the crowded room, and everything else fades away. The conversations, the music, the gentle clink of champagne glasses—it all becomes background noise. His dark gaze locks onto mine with an intensity that makes my knees weak.

He doesn't look away. Doesn't even pretend to pay attention to the conversation happening around him. His stare is possessive, hungry, and completely inappropriate for such a public setting.

"Earth to Kaia," Talia says, nudging my shoulder. "You're staring."

I tear my gaze away from Vincent, heat flooding my cheeks. "I wasn't staring."

"Right." She signals a passing server for champagne. "And I'm not a Lopez."

I accept a glass of champagne, grateful for something to do with my hands. The bubbles tickle my nose as I take a sip, trying to settle my nerves.

"Kaia Dawson?" A male voice draws my attention, and I turn to see a young man approaching us. He's tall and athletically built, with sandy brown hair and friendly blue eyes. Handsome in a classic way, but there's something about his scent that marks him as unfamiliar.

"Yes?" I reply cautiously.

He extends his hand with a charming smile. "Killian Reed. Alpha of the Silverwood Pack, visiting from Montana." His handshake is firm but not aggressive. "I've heard quite a bit about you."

I wonder what exactly but keep the thought to myself, knowing it’s nothing more than a tactic to get into my pants.

Talia's expression immediately becomes guarded. "Reed," she acknowledges coolly.

"Ms. Lopez." He nods respectfully before turning his attention back to me. "I was hoping I might steal a dance from the most beautiful woman in the room."

The compliment catches me off guard. "That's very kind, but—"

"I insist." His smile widens, and I can see the natural confidence that comes with Alpha status. "Unless, of course, you're spoken for?"

Before I can respond, I feel a presence behind me. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, and my wolf suddenly goes on high alert. The scent of cedar and warm spice wraps around me like a physical embrace.

"She is."

Vincent's voice is low, controlled, but there's an unmistakable edge of danger beneath the words. I turn to find him standing directly behind me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body.

Killian's friendly expression doesn't waver, but I catch the slight tension in his shoulders. "Vincent Lopez. Should have known."

Vincent steps beside me, his hand settling possessively on my lower back. The touch sends electricity shooting up my spine, and I have to bite back a gasp."Killian. I didn't expect to see Silverwood here tonight."

Killian's gaze flicks between Vincent and me, assessing. "The kingdom's formal events bring out all the important families, don't they? Though I'm beginning to think the real treasure isn't political."

The growl that rumbles through Vincent's chest is so low only supernatural hearing could pick it up. "Careful," Vincent says, his tone deceptively casual.

Killian raises his hands in mock surrender, but his eyes are bright with amusement. "No offense intended. Simply appreciating beauty when I see it."

I've had enough of being discussed like property. I step away from Vincent's touch, immediately missing the warmth but needing the distance.

"I can speak for myself," I say firmly, looking between both men. "And I'm not interested in dancing right now."

Killian nods graciously. "Of course. Perhaps later in the evening."

He melts back into the crowd, but not before shooting Vincent a look that's equal parts challenge and amusement. The moment he's gone, Vincent's attention turns to me with laser focus.

"What the hell was that?" he demands, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What was what?" I take another sip of champagne, trying to appear casual despite the way my pulse is racing.

"You let him flirt with you."

"I let him be polite. There's a difference."

"He wasn't being polite, Kaia. He was marking territory."

The possessiveness in his voice makes something hot and unwelcome coil in my stomach. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not territory to be marked, isn't it?"

Vincent's jaw clenches. "You know what I meant."

"Do I?" I turn to face him fully, ignoring the curious glances from nearby guests. "Because it sounds like you think you have some claim on me."

"Don't I?"

The question hangs between us, loaded with our history and unresolved tension. For a moment, I see past the composed Alpha facade to something raw and desperate underneath.

But then I remember. The dare. The laughter. The way he destroyed everything I thought we had.

"No," I say quietly. "You don't."

I turn and walk away before he can respond, needing space to breathe. I head toward the bar on the far side of the room, aware that he's watching my every step but not caring.

I reach the bar and wait for the bartender to notice me, fighting the urge to fidget with my necklace.

"What can I get you?" he asks finally.

"Whiskey. Neat," I reply, earning a slightly raised eyebrow. Most of the women around me are drinking champagne or colorful cocktails, but tonight calls for something stronger.

He pours me a generous measure into a crystal tumbler. I take a grateful sip, closing my eyes briefly as the liquor burns a warm path down my throat. It reminds me of winter evenings back home when my father would pour himself a glass after patrol and sometimes let me have a tiny taste when my mother wasn't looking.

"That's not the drink choice I expected."

The deep, resonant voice behind me sends an inexplicable shiver down my spine. I turn slowly, coming face to face with the last person I would expect to see.

"Lewis!" I exclaim, almost choking on my drink, heat rushing to my cheeks. He's still as strikingly handsome as the first time I saw him at the café, but tonight he's transformed.

His broad shoulders fit perfectly in his tailored navy suit, the rich fabric making his piercing blue eyes seem even more intense against his tanned skin. His black hair is styled away from his face, highlighting sharp cheekbones and a strong jawline that tenses slightly as our eyes meet.

"You remember my name," he says with a genuine smile that transforms his serious face, lighting up his eyes as he steps closer.

The crowd around us seems to fade away. "How are you today, Kaia?" he asks, his voice so calm and deep that it drives away all the nerve-wracking feelings I had earlier, replacing them with an entirely different kind of nervousness.

"I'm good. You?" I reply, suddenly feeling hyperaware of the distance between us and the energy pulsing as we stand so close to one another.

I take a step back to see if it would reduce the intensity, and it doesn't—the invisible thread between us stretches but doesn't break.

"Good, too. What are you doing here?" he asks, his eyes never leaving mine as he takes a casual sip of what looks like bourbon.

I don't know if I should answer, knowing our packs are enemies, but I would be lying if a part of me wasn't curious to know why he's so interested in me.

"I'm Talia's plus-one," I admit, feeling oddly embarrassed at my reason for being here among all these powerful people.

"That's nice. I'm happy to see you again," he replies.

I nod awkwardly, not knowing what to say as silence settles between us. I take a slow sip of my drink, the whiskey spreading warmth through my chest, and scramble for something else to say.

"Kaia!" I hear someone calling my name from across the room.

At the same moment, Lewis's warm fingers brush against my bare arm—just the lightest touch as he reaches past me to set his glass on the bar.

A jolt of electricity runs through me—a connection, primal and ancient, sparking in my bones and sending my heart into a frantic rhythm. My breath catches in my throat as I see the recognition dawn in Lewis's eyes, too, his pupils dilating until only a thin ring of blue remains. The noise of the party fades completely as something undeniable passes between us.

The crystal tumbler slips from my suddenly nerveless fingers.

"Mate," he whispers, the word barely audible, but it hits me like a physical blow.