I smile warmly in response to the old alpha's approval, feeling at ease except for the way Delilah has been treating me like I don't exist.
My friends love me. Their parents love me.
But Delilah Hargreeves hates my guts.
It's only fitting that Tyler's father directs the conversation toward Delilah.
“Delilah, my dear…” he begins gently as Delilah straightens up. “Your father has told me about your betrothal.”
The ensuing coughing and spluttering from Delilah forms the soundtrack of the color draining from my face, shock freezing me on the spot and taking my breath captive.
Betrothal?
“Y-Yes…” Delilah stammers, reaching for her drink and emptying the flute. As she straightens up, she briefly glances at me, a flicker of anguish evident in the warm hazel depths of her eyes.
I've seen that pain in her eyes before, that sadness that filled them when I rejected her claim that we were fated mates.
“What we had was fun, sure. But there's no way it's anything more than that. Fated mates? That's a big reach.”
The echo of my snickering, immature retort comes back to haunt me, as if taunting me in the face of this new revelation.
“My parents have arranged my engagement to Prince Damion Hastings,” Delilah explains in a somber tone. Still, she says the man's name as if it matters who he is. As if some arrogant European Lycan Prince is worthy of marryingmy mate.
Grr!
The rumbling growl brewing in my chest threatens to lash out at everyone seated around the table with no remorse or care for the consequences, but my mind kicks in to warn me of my inner wolf's anger, fury, red-hot rage that will spill out if I don't get some fresh air.
What's worse is that Delilah continues to describe the Lycan Prince as if he's some hot commodity whose name is too precious to be entangled with hers.
My nostrils flare as I stare at her from the side, wondering if this is the reason she's barely looked at me.
Because of Damion Hastings…?
Fueled by the anger that I'd just barely managed to contain earlier, my hands curl into fists, and I get to my feet.
“Excuse me,” I say to no one in particular as I keep my head down, rubbing my nose as I walk out of the diner.
The cool spring air in Portland does little to subdue my inner wolf, but I can't blame the beast inside me for becoming rabid, feral, wanting to rip its claws through another word about the arrogant, undeserving prince.
There's no way I'm lettingmymate marry someone else. So what if she doesn't want to speak to me? I can't let another wolf lay claim to what's mine.
Something in me snaps, and I grunt under my breath, fists curling with determination as I set off toward town, deciding that I have to do something to stop this from happening.
There's no way Delilah is marrying someone else!
Chapter 3 - Delilah
“What's up?” Emily asks on our way back to the guesthouse.
We'd taken a stroll through Portland with Arianna after lunch, but the newlyweds are insatiable and inseparable at that. Arianna couldn't wait to get back to the cottage, while Noah, their son, is staying with Tyler's parents.
Arianna and Tyler would have offered a solution regarding my betrothal, since I helped them closely in uncovering Arianna's witch abilities when I discovered she was linked to my mother's coven.
But they're honeymooning right now, and I can't interrupt them or dump my troubles on them.
I just wish they'd noticed that it was bothering more than I let on when Tyler's father brought it up.
Someone else seemed to have noticed, and he left the diner as if he couldn't bear the news.
