“Trinity?” Holly’s voice cuts through my moment of professional pride. She appears at my elbow, looking unusually serious. “Can we talk for a minute? Before everyone sits down?”
I glance toward the head table where Josie is laughing with her other bridesmaids, then back at Holly’s tense expression. “Of course. What’s wrong?”
Holly guides me toward a corner behind one of the massive floral arrangements that provides a screen from the other guests. She fidgets with her clutch, opening and closing the clasp with nervous clicks.
“I need to tell you something about Kyren.”
My stomach drops, but I keep my expression neutral. “What about him?”
“He’s a heat-breaker.” Holly’s words come out in a rush, her cheeks flushing pink.
I blink, feigning shock even as my mind races. “A heat-breaker? Are you sure?”
Holly nods miserably. “I’m sorry, Trin. I know you care about him, but I’m worried he’s lying to you about his background. These guys... some of them aren’t exactly honest about what they do for work.”
“How did you find out?” I ask, deflecting while I figure out how to handle this.
“I used to volunteer at a free clinic that does pre-engagement health testing for heat-breaker alphas.” Holly hesitates, then looks away. “I would have told you sooner,but I didn’t recognize him at first. It’s not like I know him, or anything.”
Because heat-breaking is so taboo for alphas that she wants to make absolutely sure I know that her connection to one is purely professional. As a beta, Holly would only know what she’s been told about them.
How could she possibly understand that Kyren’s history as a heat-breaker is the least interesting thing about him?
I take a shaky breath, the weight of all my lies suddenly crushing.
“Holly, I need to tell you something.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “Matheo, Cash, Lucas, and Kyren—they’re not really my pack. I hired them through a matchmaking service because I used to date Josie’s fiancés, and I couldn’t face coming to this wedding alone.”
Holly’s mouth falls open. “You what?”
“Egret, Brendin, and Saren were my fiancés in college. They dumped me for being too independent, too focused on my career. When Josie told me she was marrying them, I panicked and lied about having my own pack.” I lean against the wall behind the flowers, suddenly exhausted but also relieved to have a release valve on all the secret-keeping. “It’s all fake, Holly. Every bit of it.”
“Oh, Trinity.” Holly’s expression shifts from shock to sympathy. “But...the way they look at you, the way you respond to them—that doesn’t seem fake.”
I close my eyes, thinking about this morning’s intense encounter, about the way my body responds to each of them, about how natural it feels to be surrounded by their warmth and protection.
“Maybe not completely fake,” I whisper. “But it’s still a business arrangement. They’re being paid to be here.”
Holly reaches out and squeezes my hand. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise. But Trinity, you need to think about what you’re doing. If there are real feelings involved—on either side—someone’s going to get hurt.”
“I know.” I straighten up, smoothing down my dress. “I know I should come clean, but I can’t do it during Josie’s wedding. She doesn’t need this drama right now.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
I take a deep breath, trying to summon the confidence that carried me through building my business, through every challenge I’ve faced.
“Get through tonight. Get through tomorrow’s wedding. And then...figure out what’s real and what isn’t.”
Holly nods slowly. “For what it’s worth, I think at least some of it is real. I’ve seen the way they look at you—that’s not acting.”
I want that so badly that I’m terrified to acknowledge just how much. Whenever I’ve wanted something the way I want this, something always happens to sabotage it.
“Maybe,” I say finally.
Holly gives me a pointed look. “And just so you know, Josie is my best friend. I don’t think I could keep a secret like this from her if I tried. You might want to come clean sooner rather than later.”
We return to our assigned seats as her words churn in my head.
Hans stands up at the head table, his usually confident demeanor slightly shaky as he gently strikes his wine glass with a small fork. Public speaking has never been his forte, but that won’t stop him from making his speech.
