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And for the first time in a very long time, I didn’t feel alone.

7

ROMAN

When the credits rolled, the room was bathed in that soft, blue glow that made everything feel a little quieter and a little more fragile. Maggie didn’t say anything, just kept staring at the screen like maybe, if she looked hard enough, she could keep the heartache at bay.

I stayed beside her, one arm still resting along the back of the couch. She hadn’t pulled away all night. She’d cried. Really cried. And not once had I felt awkward or out of place. I didn’t know what to say. That Eric was a dumbass? That she was worth more than some yoga-obsessed manchild who couldn’t see what he had? That I would’ve never picked someone else, not if I had her?

But I couldn’t say any of that. Not without overstepping. Not when she was still grieving the loss of the relationship.

She’s still thinking about him. I’m just filling the space he left behind.

That thought had been clawing at the back of my mind all night, and it had been loudest during the quietest moments: when she curled deeper into the blankets; when she scooped ice cream without looking; when her eyes were red and her sobs had subsided.

I liked sitting here with her. I really liked sitting here with her. But it didn’t mean what I wanted it to mean. Maybe it never would.

I cleared my throat, turning slightly to face her. “The meeting was quick,” I said.

She looked over, her expression open but cautious.

“Lucien just wanted to follow up with his counsel,” I continued. “It’s that same thing he keeps harping on. Mates. Balance. He wants his advisors to lead by example.”

Maggie nodded slowly. “Right.”

My hands started to move, clenching and unclenching like they always did when I was working up to something uncomfortable. Of course, she noticed instantly.

“What else, Roman?” she asked gently. “There’s more, right?”

I looked at her. She was beautiful even with tear-streaked cheeks and an empty pint of ice cream at her feet.

“Lucien’s intrigued by you. By us.”

Her brows drew together, and I pushed forward before I lost my nerve.

“He’s never heard of you,” I said. “So, when he found out I’m living with a human, one I’m apparently very close to, he decided he wanted to meet you. Formally.”

She sat bolt upright, the blanket tumbling off her shoulders and the empty ice cream container rolling to the floor with a soft clunk.

“I have to meet the alpha one-on-one?” Her voice pitched higher. “I’m not ready for that. I don’t know what to say. And what the fuck am I going to wear?”

I stood, not wanting to crowd her. “Hey,” I said, hands up in surrender. “I’ll help you pick something out, okay? We can go shopping right now if you want. My treat.”

“You’re offering to go shopping?”

“I’m offering to fund the shopping. I will carry bags. I will nod respectfully. I might even offer unsolicited opinions on accessories. I’m versatile.”

That got a weak laugh out of her. “I never turn down a new outfit,” she muttered. Then her expression sobered. “But seriously, Roman. How am I supposed to convince a literal alpha that you and I are… whatever we’re pretending to be? He’ll see right through you.”

“We have about twenty-four hours to prepare,” I said. “And trust me, I know Lucien. I’ve done this dance with him before. I can pretty much guess the questions he’ll ask.”

Maggie tilted her head. “Like what?”

“Like how we met. How long we’ve been together. Whether I’ve shifted in front of you. How you feel about the pack. If we plan to… make it official.”

“Official like?”

“Like bonded,” I said, tone soft.