Emily
The ride back from Silverroot Sanctuary was quiet. I sat beside Logan in the backseat, tucked into the far corner with my coat draped across my lap and fingers curled around a cooling paper cup of herbal tea.
The scent was faintly sweet–lavender and something earthy I couldn’t name–and it lingered in the small space between us.
Outside the window, the woods rolled past in streaks Green and fading gold. I let my eyes follow them, but I could feel
him even when I didn’t look.
His presence was weighty, certain, and too close for me to pretend didn’t notice.
At one point, the road curved, and the shift in momentum made our shoulders brush. I didn’t move away. Neither did he.
I told myself it didn’t have to mean anything. That proximity was not intimacy. That we were only sitting like this because we’d agreed to make a public appearance, and now it was done.
But my body didn’t believe me.
It remembered the way Logan had stood beside me while we’d walked the paths between moonstones and healing pools.
My mind replayed how he’d watched me with something close to reverence when I spoke with the sanctuary’s staff. Recalled that he didn’t flinch when I spoke openly about dormancy to the reporters gathered near the press arch.
And I’d wanted him there. Not as my Alpha. Not even as my contracted fiancé.
Just Logan.
My fingers clenched tighter around the cup.
I hated that it felt this easy. I hated even more that part of me wanted to believe it could stay this way.
At some point, I glanced at Logan. He was looking down at his phone, reading something with his usual intensity, brow furrowed and jaw set. But then he caught me watching and looked up.
His gaze softened instantly.
“Do you want to stop and get food?” he asked, voice quiet. “You barely touched lunch.”
I hesitated. Shook my head. I felt too… something to eat. He didn’t push. Just nodded, eyes flicking down to my hands. “Your tea’s cold.”
“I like it that way.”
“Of course you do,” he said, a smile touching the corner of his mouth
And gods help me, I smiled back.
When we arrived back home, Logan exited the car first and extended a hand to help me out. I took it without thinking. His fingers were warm against mine, steady and solid.
As soon as I was on my feet, I let go. And immediately missed his touch.
“Thanks,” I said, already stepping past him toward the front door
He didn’t follow right away. Maybe he was letting me have space. Or maybe he needed it too.
In my suite, I set down my coat and set the now–empty tea cup on the table. I stood in the middle of the room, staring at nothing, listening to the silence settle around me like a warm blanket.
It had been a good day, objectively.
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Chapter 83
+25 BONUS
Public support had grown. The sanctuary visit was praised. The press had taken dozens of photos that didn’t make me look fragile or tragic.
And yet, I didn’t feel settled.
I felt exposed.
Because for the first time since this arrangement started, I’d wanted something from Logan that had nothing to do with
strategy.
I wanted him to see me. I wanted him to want me back. And that terrified me more than anything Chloe or my stepmother could ever do.
I sat down on the edge of the bed and dragged the throw blanket over my legs.
This didn’t feel like pretending anymore. And that… was a recipe for heartbreak. But that felt like a later problem.
Tonight I wanted to sit in the hope and calm just a little longer.
That night Islept better than I had in weeks. I was halfway through my second cup of coffee–real coffee, strong enough wake an elephant–when my phone pinged with a post I’d been tagged in.
Chapter 84
