"I think so," I answered honestly. "I have to be."
Miles stepped closer, his voice low. "You're stronger than you know," he said, his green eyes holding mine with unexpected intensity. "What you did tonight—asking for what you want, making a choice—that took courage."
I felt heat rise in my cheeks at the compliment. "It didn't feel courageous. It felt terrifying."
"Courage isn't the absence of fear," Nicolaus observed, his analytical tone softer than usual. "It's acting despite it."
Christopher opened the hotel door for me, the cool evening air rushing in to replace the controlled climate of the lobby. "Seven days," he reminded me quietly. "Just seven days."
I nodded, stepping toward the waiting car. The driver, the same kind-eyed beta from earlier, stood ready to open the rear door. But I hesitated, turning back to look at the four men who had just offered me something I'd never dared to hope for.
"Thank you," I said again, the words feeling inadequate for everything they'd given me tonight. Not just consideration for formal courting, but the first real choice I'd ever been offered. "I'll see you Sunday."
Julian nodded, something unreadable flickering in his expression. "Sunday," he confirmed.
I slipped into the backseat of the sedan, my purse clutched tightly against my side where the hidden phone pressed against my ribs like a secret heartbeat. As the car pulled away from the hotel, I watched the four figures in the lobby grow smaller through the rear window until they disappeared entirely.
The drive home passed in a blur of city lights and racing thoughts. My parents would already know by now—Julian had said they'd call immediately. I tried to picture my father's face when he received the news, my mother's barely contained triumph. They'd gotten what they wanted, or so they'd think…then I hoped these Alpha’s were telling the truth and I could be free…free to choose…and free to live life like I would want it.
Chapter Six
Lilianna
The Wycliffe estate came into view through the car window, its imposing Georgian facade lit by strategically placed floodlights that made the limestone appear to glow against the dark sky. Even after twenty-three years, the sight of home made my stomach clench with familiar anxiety. Tonight, though, the feeling was different—sharper, more urgent. I was returning as a different person than the one who'd left just hours ago.
The sedan pulled through the iron gates and up the circular drive, coming to a stop beneath the covered portico. I could see warm light spilling from the tall windows of my father's study, and my mother's silhouette moving past the drawing room's French doors. They were awake, waiting. Probably celebrating.
"Thank you," I told the driver as he opened my door, his kind expression unchanged despite the late hour.
"My pleasure, miss. Have a good evening." the driver gave a small smile before leaving me.
I squared my shoulders and ascended the marble steps, each footfall echoing in the silent night. The heavy front door opened before I could reach for it, revealing Greta, our housekeeper, her eyes wide with something like wonder.
"Miss Lilianna," she whispered, stepping aside to let me enter. "Your parents are waiting in the drawing room."
Of course they were. The formal drawing room was reserved for celebrations and important guests—a clear indication of their mood. I handed Greta my light wrap, careful to keep my purse with the hidden phone clutched against my side.
"Thank you, Greta," I murmured, catching her studying me with unusual intensity.
"You look... different, miss," she observed quietly, her brow furrowing. "Are you well?"
I touched my cheek self-consciously. Could she see the change in me already? "Just a bit nervous from the meeting I had.”
Greta's expression softened with understanding. "Of course, miss. Such an important evening." She hesitated, then added in a whisper, "I hope it went well for you."
The kindness in her voice nearly undid me. Greta had been with our family since I was eight, had witnessed countless lessons in proper behavior, countless corrections and criticisms. She'd never commented before, but something in her tone suggested she understood more than she'd ever let on.
"Thank you," I managed, my voice thick with emotion I couldn't quite hide.
I made my way across the marble foyer, my heels clicking against the polished stone. The drawing room doors stood open, warm light and the sound of my parents' voices spilling into the hallway. I paused just outside, gathering myself, preparing to slip back into the role they expected.
"Lilianna!" My mother's voice rang out as I stepped into the doorway. She swept toward me with an expression of barelycontained triumph, her silk evening dress rustling with each step. "Darling, come in, come in!"
My father stood beside the marble fireplace, a crystal tumbler of whiskey in his hand and satisfaction written across his features. The room felt charged with their excitement, the air thick with expectation and self-congratulation.
"How did it go?" my mother asked, though her bright smile suggested she already knew the answer. "Mr. Vale called not twenty minutes after you left the hotel."
I moved carefully into the room, my purse held close. "It went well, I think."
