"They don't have to like it," Miles said with a slight smile.
"They only have to accept it," Julian added, his voice carrying that undercurrent of authority that hadn't been directed at me before, but now seemed protective rather than possessive. "And they will, because the alternative is losing their chance at an alliance with our pack."
I nodded slowly, understanding the dynamics at play. My parents would tolerate almost anything to secure this arrangement—including temporarily relinquishing their control over me. The irony wasn't lost on me; their own ambition would become my path to freedom.
"What happens tonight?" I asked, glancing at the elegant clock on the wall. "When I return home?"
Julian exchanged looks with his packmates before answering. "We'll call your father immediately after you leave. Express our interest in proceeding with formal courtship. By the time you arrive home, they'll already know."
"They'll be ecstatic," I murmured,"...unbearable, probably." I felt sick at the thought of their triumphant faces, the self-congratulatory toasts they'd make over securing such a prestigious match.
"You don't have to pretend with them," Christopher suggested gently. "In fact, it might be better if you don't appear too eager. They'll be suspicious if your attitude changes suddenly."
Julian nodded. "Christopher's right. Maintain whatever persona they expect from you. It's only for a few more days."
"A few more days," I repeated, the words tasting like possibility on my tongue. After a lifetime of careful obedience, a week seemed both impossibly long and startlingly brief.
Miles glanced at his watch. "Your driver will be returning soon. We shouldn't keep you too late—it might raisequestions." The thought of leaving this sanctuary of unexpected understanding made my chest constrict.
"I don't want to go back," I admitted, the words slipping out before I could contain them. The vulnerability in my voice surprised even me. These few hours had cracked something open inside me that I wasn't sure I could seal again.
Julian's expression softened. "I know. But it's necessary—for now." He reached across the table, his hand stopping just short of mine. "May I?"
I nodded, and his warm fingers closed gently over mine. The contact sent a wave of calm through my system, his scent wrapping around me like a protective shield.
"We'll send a car for you in seven days," he said, his voice low and steady. "Sunday morning. Pack whatever matters to you. We'll handle the rest."
"Seven days," I repeated, trying to make the words feel real. One week until everything changed.
Nicolaus cleared his throat. "It would be wise to prepare a list of what you'll need," he suggested, his practical nature asserting itself. "Especially items your parents might object to you taking. We can arrange to have duplicates waiting for you….or even things you want your parents hadn’t let you have."
I nodded, grateful for his foresight. "I will."
Julian squeezed my hand gently before releasing it. "One more thing—we should exchange contact information. Just in case you need to reach us before Sunday."
The idea of having a direct line to them—a lifeline extending beyond this room—made something loosen in my chest.
"I don't have a personal phone," I admitted. "My parents monitor my communications."
Miles made a sound of disgust. "Of course they do."
Christopher reached into his pocket and withdrew a small black device. "This is a secure phone. Untraceable. It only hasour numbers programmed into it." He slid it across the table to me. "Keep it hidden. If anything happens—anything at all that makes you uncomfortable or scared—call or text any of us. Day or night."
I took the phone with trembling fingers, slipping it into my small clutch purse. The weight of it felt significant—my first secret possession, my first real connection to a world beyond my parents' control.
"Thank you," I whispered, looking up to meet each of their gazes in turn. "For...everything."
Julian stood, signaling the end of our meeting. "We should get you downstairs. Your driver will be waiting."
The others rose as well, and I followed suit, smoothing my dress with suddenly nervous hands. The reality of returning to my parents' house—of pretending nothing had changed when everything had—settled over me like a heavy cloak.
"Remember," Julian said as we walked toward the door, "you're not the same person who walked in here tonight. No matter what they say or do, that knowledge belongs to you now."
The elevator ride to the lobby felt both eternal and too brief with all five of their eyes on me. I coudln't help but feel a little out of sorts. I stood between Julian and Christopher, hyper aware of their presence, their scents still lingering in my system like a promise. When the doors opened, I could see the black sedan waiting through the glass entrance.
"Lilianna," Julian said quietly as we approached the doors. I turned to face him, and he studied my expression with those perceptive hazel eyes. "Are you going to be alright?"
The question was simple, but I heard the deeper concern beneath it. Was I strong enough to endure the next week? Could I maintain the facade my parents expected while carrying this new knowledge inside me?
