JIMMIE'S POV
It's been a long day… and it has barely even begun.
The air backstage was thick not with tension, not with anxiety, but with something heavier. Something harder to name. I stood at the far edge of the podium curtain, just out of view, as Eleanor's voice carried across the massive conference hall. Her words rose, vibrant and full of purpose, echoing off high ceilings and bouncing across a thousand eager faces.
Grim's Mound Foundation. One of the largest NGOs in all of Astria, a global name with a powerful mission. And there she was, Eleanor James, the First Lady of Astria, my boss… and the wife of the man who kissed me last night.
She stood tall. Poised. The picture of elegance. Her voice didn't falter once as she addressed the crowd, talking about opportunity, belonging, and hope. She always knew how to move a room. They leaned in with admiration, some even with awe. But I wasn't looking at the crowd. I was watching her, really watching.
Because something was wrong.
Not glaring. Not obvious. She smiled, she gestured, she delivered her speech flawlessly, but I could see it. A stiffness in her shoulders that didn't belong. A flicker in her eyes when no one was looking. Most people would miss it. Hell, everyone would miss it.
But not me.
I've known Eleanor for months now. I know how she walks, how she breathes, how her voice dips when she's tired, how she touches the side of her blazer when she's overwhelmed. And right now… she was carrying something heavy. Something no amount of makeup, poise, or political grace could bury completely.
Maybe it was guilt making me see it. I had kissed her husband last night.
Devon.
Just the thought made my chest tighten, my stomach twist. I swallowed hard, shame prickling under my skin. But no… she didn't know. Not yet. There's no way she could. Her silence wasn't that kind of silence.
No, whatever was bothering her… it had something to do with that damn meeting earlier today. With Jim Halvorsen.
I had no idea what was said. Eleanor had made me leave the moment Halvorsen arrived. She didn't ask, she told. And when she stormed out of that restaurant after, she didn't say a word to me. Not in the car ride. Not when I briefed her on the foundation event. Not even when I introduced her to Mrs. Lee, the executive coordinator of the event. She smiled and nodded like a robot. Not once did she see me.
She was somewhere else. Fighting something.
And I shouldn't care. I shouldn't be this emotionally tied to her. Our relationship, if you could even call it that, was never meant to be anything more than professional. But how could I not care? How could I stay distant when she had shown me kindness… when she had given me a chance, respected me, trusted me?
I closed my eyes.
I shouldn't be here. Not emotionally, not mentally.
Especially not when I've chosen to walk down a different path — one that has Devon James at the end of it.
The thought of him brought that kiss rushing back to me, his hands, firm and unsure; his lips, fire and ice; his eyes, a silent war. I pressed my fingers to my lips, trying to ground myself, to not get lost in the memory.
That kiss had been real. Pure. Unmistakable.
And terrifying.
I groaned softly, trying to steady myself just as the crowd roared with applause. Eleanor must've said something powerful I hadn't heard a damn word of it. The ovation was thunderous, rising to the rafters and falling in waves. It died down as she prepared to continue.
That's when I felt it, a presence beside me. Too close. Too familiar.
I turned on instinct and lost my breath.
Nadia.
Dressed immaculately in sleek charcoal, her deep hazel eyes sharp behind a serene smile that didn't reach. It never did. Everything about her was too perfect, too polished, like a blade dressed in silk.
"Hello, Jimmie," she said sweetly. "Good to see you again."
My stomach turned.
"What the hell are you doing here? How did you even get this far?"
She shrugged like it was nothing, a casual toss of power. "I have my ways."
She said it like an insult, like I was too naive to imagine them.
I narrowed my eyes. "Well, Eleanor's busy. And given your stunt the other night, I don't think anyone's rolling out a welcome mat for a re-meet."
Nadia tilted her head back, grinning like a cat with blood on its whiskers. "Feisty. Now I get why he's mated to you."
Her words made my whole body stiffen. I hated how she always dragged Devon into everything. As if his name on her tongue wasn't poison.
"I'm not here for Eleanor," she said smoothly. "I'm here for you," her voice barely a whisper now.
I frowned. "Me? Why?"
"It's a matter of urgency."
Something about her tone, her ease it made my skin crawl. My instincts screamed. She had too much control over this moment. She was playing a game I didn't understand yet.
"What do you want, Nadia?"
Her pause stretched. Then, with deliberate venom, she said it.
"I want you to reject Devon."
The words hit me like a fist.
"What?!"
My voice cracked loudly, but the booming speakers muffled it under Eleanor's next segment. Thank the stars.
I pulled myself together, lowered my voice to a furious whisper. "Are you insane?! That could kill him! And it would destroy me. Why would I ever—?"
"You can and you will," she interrupted coldly. "You've done it before, haven't you? So why is this any different?"
I flinched.
"Because I know him now," I hissed. "I'm getting to know the man behind the name. He's not what you think…"
"Oh, please," she laughed bitterly. "You think he'll leave Eleanor for you? Leave his children? Grow up!"
Her words sank deep. They hurt because they sounded like the world I already feared.
But I refused to let her see that.
"What do you want, Nadia? What is this really about? You want Devon dead, don't you?"
She gasped so theatrically then smiled again.
"Dead? Oh no, Jimmie. That's my cousin. My only living relative."
"Then why the rejection? You know what it would do to him."
She stepped closer, grabbed my denim office wear jacket by both ends, lifting me off my feet, her eyes no longer soft hazel, but blazing gold. "You will do as I say, Jimmie," she growled. "You will sever the bond."
I stared at her, stunned. I didn't move, didn't breathe.
"And if I don't?" I asked softly, my voice shaky, unsure if I even wanted her answer.
She grinned, dark and cruel. "Then you'll find out what I'm capable of. And trust me… You don't want to know."
She leaned in again, close enough that I could feel her breath. "I made you reject him once. I'll do it again."
My heart stuttered.
"What are you talking about?"
Nadia smiled, triumphant. "Ever wonder how your kidnapping happened?"
I froze. "It was you…"
"Of course it was me," she said proudly. "I had to know. My mole told me about your little escapades with the President, she said mockingly. I suspected your bond. Needed to see it myself. The way he tore those men apart to reach you, the way you screamed when you saw what he was. Damn! That was theatrical…" she said between laughs.
I remembered. The blood. The rage. The wolf.
"I hoped," she continued, "that you'd run. That you'd leave him. A mere human can't stomach a monster like that, right? And you did for a while, and I almost got what I wanted, but no. You just had to bring him back!"
Her tone turned bitter.
"But now… you'll send him back. You will reject him. Or my next move will be so brutal, none of you will recover."
She let me go.
I couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.
"You need to pull yourself together, Jimmie," she said calmly. "Your boss is about to wrap up."
Then she leaned in again and whispered, "You have until the next full moon."
I blinked. "Next full moon? What does that…?"
"Figure it out," she said with a wink, before disappearing into the shadows. "I'll be watching, Jimmie Portland."
She was gone.
And I was still standing there, ice in my veins, air caught in my lungs, everything spinning.
Nadia. The kidnapping. A mole. A plan. A game.
She was crazy.
And worse, she was winning.
Eleanor's voice rang out one last time, "Thank you, Grim's Mound Foundation, for having me."
The hall erupted again.
But I didn't move.
I reached for my phone. Devon's number was already there. My finger hovered.
But I didn't dial.
Nadia's voice echoed in my head.
"I'll be watching, Jimmie Portland."
God help me. I was losing grip of everything.