chapter 3

The night air was cool against my heated skin.

I hadn’t even realized when I slipped out of the ballroom—just that at some point the chandeliers, the eyes, the music had become too much. My breathing was uneven, my suppressants failing one by one as if my body had decided tonight was the perfect time to betray me.

I leaned against the stone railing outside, fingers digging into the fabric of my dress.

Get it together, Zack.

“Running away already?”

I stiffened.

James.

He stepped out from the shadows like he belonged there, coat draped lazily over one shoulder, eyes sharp and immediately attentive. The moment he was close enough, his gaze darkened.

“…You’re burning.”

My breath hitched. “I’m fine.”

A lie.

He didn’t touch me—not yet—but his presence alone was overwhelming. Dominant alpha pheromones wrapped around me, slow and controlled, like he was testing how close he could get without crossing a line.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said quietly. “Especially not like this.”

“Then why did you follow me?” I challenged, desperate to cling to something other than the way my knees felt weak.

James’s lips curved slightly. “Because you didn’t look like someone who wanted to be alone.”

The words sent a shiver straight down my spine.

I turned my face away, ashamed of how fast my body reacted. “This is a mistake.”

“Then tell me to leave,” he replied calmly.

I opened my mouth.

Nothing came out.

That was all the permission he needed.

James moved closer—slow, deliberate—until I could feel the warmth of him, smell him, sense him everywhere. He reached out, fingers brushing my wrist, giving me just enough time to pull away.

I didn’t.

His touch was gentle. Grounding. Dangerous.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured.

“My heat—” I swallowed. “It’s early. It shouldn’t be this strong.”

James’s jaw tightened, restraint slicing across his expression. “If I lose control, I won’t forgive myself.”

“Then don’t,” I whispered, hating how badly I wanted him to.

His hand slid up my arm, stopping just short of my shoulder. He leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed my cheek, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“Zack… if I kiss you, I won’t stop easily.”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“Then—” my voice cracked, “—don’t kiss me.”

He hesitated.

That should have been the end of it.

Instead, my hands betrayed me, gripping the front of his shirt, anchoring myself to him like he was the only thing keeping me upright.

James froze.

Then everything snapped into sharp clarity.

His mouth hovered inches from mine—so close I could feel the promise of it. His scent flooded me, rich and overwhelming, my omega instincts screaming in response.

This was crossing the line.

This was about to shatter it.

Somewhere behind us, unnoticed by either of us—

Ambrose stood frozen in the corridor.

He saw the way I leaned into James.

The way James bent toward me, eyes dark with need and restraint.

The way my fingers clutched fabric that wasn’t his.

His chest tightened painfully.

He said nothing.

Did nothing.

Just watched as the person he loved slipped, inch by inch, into someone else’s orbit.

James pulled back first.

A sharp breath. A clenched jaw.

“No,” he said firmly, stepping away. “Not like this. Not when you’re vulnerable.”

I swayed, suddenly cold without his warmth.

James shrugged off his coat and draped it over my shoulders, careful, possessive without claiming. “Go back inside. Find your friend. I’ll make sure no one follows you.”

I nodded, stunned, humiliated… and aching.

As I walked away, I didn’t see Ambrose turn his face aside.

I didn’t see the way his hands curled into fists.

But the distance between us had never felt so wide.

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