Chapter 133

Agnes & Elijah

Agnes

Olivia strode into my office before I had a chance to say anything.

“This is for you,” she said, crossing the room and placing the basket on my desk. The arrangement was beautiful—fresh strawberries, grapes, apples, and oranges, all artfully arranged with a small jar of honey and a wheel of expensive cheese in the center. There was even a bottle of wine, too.

“Uh… Thank you,” I said slowly, my eyes darting between her face and the basket. “This is… unexpected.”

She shrugged and plopped down into the chair across from my desk. “Oh, forgive me for wanting to apologize for how my supporters have been treating you.”

I blinked, confused. As usual, Olivia had to couch everything she said in an insult. But this time, it was different. Was she actually apologizing?

Olivia sighed and, as if reading my mind, said, “Look, I know what you’re thinking—but I didn’t tell my fans to talk all that shit about you. That was all on them. Either way, I’m sorry. I would have stepped in but it was too late by the time I realized what was happening.”

“That’s… very thoughtful of you,” I said, furrowing my brow. The gesture was nice, but I knew Olivia too well at this point to believe that she was being genuine.

She pursed her lips. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little satisfied when I found out you had to go into hiding because of it.”

Ah. So there it was. I frowned, moving to escort her out of the office along with her basket.

But before I could get up from my chair, her demeanor changed as if a switch had been flipped.

“These past months have been…” Her voice cracked suddenly, and to my surprise, tears began to well up in her eyes. “They’ve been incredibly difficult for me. Seeing my mate move on to another woman…”

A tear slid down her cheek, leaving me too taken aback to speak.

“It’s just been awful,” she said, dabbing at her tears with her finger. “I mean, I thought Elijah and I… I thought we…”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as Olivia cried in front of me. Was I being played? Or was her pain genuine? Either way, I decided in that moment to choose kindness. Even if she was manipulating me, I didn’t want to be the type of person who turned away from someone in pain.

“I’m sorry,” I said, reaching out and patting her hand. “I know it’s tough. Divorce is never pretty, especially when it’s your mate.” I took a deep breath. “Can I get you anything? Tea, or…?”

Olivia sniffled, pausing for a moment before she glanced at me. “Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

My guard instantly went back up. “Oh?”

“The mother-daughter fashion show you’re running,” she said, straightening her spine. “I was wondering if I could model with Thea.”

My mouth fell open slightly. “I… what?”

“It would mean so much to me,” Olivia went on. “And to Thea, I’m sure. She is my daughter, after all.”

I swallowed hard, feeling a knot form in my throat. “Olivia, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Her smile faltered. “Why not?”

“Thea is… she’s not comfortable around you right now,” I said as gently as I could. “I’d have to speak to her and Elijah before I make any promises. It’s not my decision to make.”

Olivia’s expression changed so quickly it was almost frightening. The tears evaporated, and her face hardened. “I see.”

“I’m sorry,” I added, but she was already standing up, smoothing down her dress.

“No, I understand perfectly,” she said. “You don’t want me anywhere near my own daughter.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Save it,” she cut me off, already heading for the door. “Enjoy the fruit basket.”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving me sitting at my desk feeling dazed and confused. I glanced at the basket, wondering if I should even touch it, half-expecting it to be poisoned. What had just happened? One minute she was tearfully opening up to me, and the next, she was storming out as if I’d slapped her.

Shaking my head, I rose from my chair and left my office. If Olivia was up to something else now, then I needed to talk to Elijah about what just happened.

He would know what to do. He always did.

…

Elijah

I had just left a meeting with the pack’s labor union representatives; it was a tiring, long meeting, but a productive one nonetheless. With rising inflation around all the territories, it was imperative to keep workers happy and to ensure that everyone in the pack earned a living wage for their labor.

Tonight, there was to be a dinner event for the labor union—a chance for networking with other packs’ unions, hopefully to help improve working conditions across the board.

I loosened my tie as I walked through the door of my office, ready to briefly relax and catch up on emails before my next meeting. But I stopped short when I saw her.

Olivia was sitting in my office chair, her legs crossed elegantly at the ankles. As soon as our eyes met, I felt it—the mate bond flaring to life, sending that familiar heat coursing through my veins. My wolf tugged at me, urging me closer to her.

“What are you doing here?” I asked by way of greeting, my hand gripping the doorframe to steady myself.

“I wanted to see you,” she said simply. “Is that so wrong?”

“You can’t just show up unannounced, Olivia. I’m very busy today.”

“I know. You were meeting with the union representatives, weren’t you? I’m quite involved in the union, you know. I have a meeting with them myself in twenty minutes.” She stood up, crossing the room toward me. “Besides, you never used to mind when I’d come and visit during work hours.”

The scent of her perfume hit me as she drew closer, and the mate bond pulsed again, stronger this time. It was disorienting, like being drunk but worse—like having my thoughts and desires manipulated from the outside.

“That was when we were married,” I said, frowning. I brushed past her, sitting at my desk, and began to shuffle papers—a silent indication that she should leave.

Olivia’s eyes flashed slightly, her lower lip quivering just so. “So you’re saying you don’t feel the pull between us anymore?”

I paused, sighing. I did feel it, and that was the problem. Despite knowing it might be artificial—despite knowing that Agnes might be my true mate—I couldn’t deny the urges I felt toward Olivia. I felt like a starving animal having a fresh steak waved in front of me, only it was poisoned.

Before I could answer, Olivia sauntered across the room. She pushed the door shut, and suddenly we were alone, the sounds of the rest of the office muffled.

“I thought you had a meeting,” I bit out.

“I’ve got time,” Olivia whispered, and then, without warning, she sat on my lap, her arms winding around my neck.

As she settled onto my lap, the bond exploded between us, flooding my system with desire so powerful I almost couldn’t breathe. My hands moved of their own accord, settling on her waist, and I found myself leaning in, drawn to her like a moth to flame.

This is wrong, a small voice whispered in the back of my mind. But the thought was drowned out by the roaring of the bond, by the feeling of Olivia’s hands in my hair, by the scent of her skin.

Her lips brushed against mine, and I felt myself responding, unable to pull away despite knowing deep down that I should. If she kept pushing, if she kept using the bond against me like this, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to resist.

And then I heard it—a small gasp from the doorway.

I jerked my head back, looking past Olivia to see Agnes standing in the doorway.

The sight of her was like a bucket of cold water being dumped over my head. Suddenly, I could think clearly again, the fog of the bond receding as quickly as it had descended. I pushed Olivia off my lap, standing up so abruptly that she stumbled.

“Olivia,” I said, my voice low and rough, “you should go to your meeting. The conference room is on the other side of the building, so it’s a long walk.”

Olivia huffed, planting her hands on her hips, but I wouldn’t budge. Finally, she spun on her heel and stormed out, leaving me.

Only then, once she was out of sight, did I finally feel like I could breathe. All thanks to Agnes.