Dylan pushed open the door to the private room, his eyes instantly landing on Lily. She was drunk, leaning into Beta Oliver’s arms. The sight of them together stung, but Dylan’s face betrayed nothing—he had mastered the art of composure over the years. His gaze shifted from the sight of his mate, disoriented and vulnerable, to the Beta holding her.
“Hello,” Dylan said calmly, extending his hand to Oliver, his voice unwavering. “I’m Lily’s mate, Dylan.”
Oliver looked up, his expression tight with an awkward smile. He quickly straightened Lily, who was barely conscious, trying to rouse her from her stupor. “Lily, your mate is here. Wake up.”
The tipsy woman blinked a few times, confusion clouding her hazel eyes. Then, with a drunken slur, she mumbled, “You’re the real mate,” and leaned further into Oliver’s chest.
The room fell silent.
Dylan stood tall, his heart heavy, but he refused to show any hint of pain. He didn’t let the words strike at him. Instead, he reached into his bag and retrieved a small bottle of hangover pills. He held them out to Oliver. “She needs to take these.”
Oliver eyed Dylan for a moment, his grip on Lily loosening as he passed the bottle to her. Lily, still disoriented, took the pills with a faint murmur of thanks, and within moments, her face began to regain its color. The room waited, tension hanging thick.
Lily blinked again, her eyes slowly clearing. She pulled away from Oliver’s comforting embrace, standing unsteadily. “I mistook him for someone else…” she said quickly, a nervous laugh escaping her lips. She glanced at Dylan, clearly flustered, as if trying to explain away her actions.
Dylan smiled softly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know,” he said simply. “Let’s go home.”
But as they turned toward the exit, a group of Lily’s friends, a mix of Lunas, Alphas, and powerful wolves, blocked their path, their laughter filling the room. Most of them were friends of Oliver, and they insisted Lily stay.
“You’ve been so busy lately, Lily. You never spend time with us!” one of them called out, a Luna with platinum blonde hair.
Another Alpha, his arms crossed, grinned mischievously. “Let’s have a game! Come on, stay and play. It’ll be fun!”
Dylan’s gaze hardened as he looked at the group, but he remained silent. He knew these wolves were just looking for trouble.
“You should play Russian Roulette,” suggested one of the Alphas, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “The loser has to reveal a secret.”
Lily hesitated, but her friends pressed on, urging her to join. “It’ll be lighthearted, we promise. Just show us what’s inside your phone album, Lily.”
The room erupted in enthusiastic shouts.
Lily’s expression faltered. She didn’t want to play, but the pressure from her friends was palpable. Her eyes flicked to Dylan for reassurance, but he remained impassive, watching the scene unfold with quiet resignation.
Without waiting for a response, a few of Lily’s friends grabbed her phone when she wasn’t paying attention and opened the gallery. Their laughter faltered when they saw the pinned album titled “Oliver.”
The room grew deathly quiet. The photos of Beta Oliver were all there—images from his time studying abroad, along with screenshots of their video calls. It was clear, even to the most unobservant, that something more than just friendship had existed between them.
Lily’s heart sank. She reached out quickly to grab her phone back, standing up abruptly. “You all keep playing,” she said in a strained voice. “I’m going to the restroom.”
Without another word, she left the room, her footsteps echoing in the silence that followed her.
Dylan didn’t move at first. He stayed in the room, the bitter taste of betrayal lingering in his mouth. He wanted to leave. To leave her. But something held him there, an invisible thread of connection that bound him to his fated mate, no matter the pain.
A few minutes passed, and Dylan made a decision. He followed her.
As he reached the hallway, he heard voices coming from just outside the restroom. Lily’s voice was low, barely above a whisper, but it carried with the weight of a hidden truth.
“Everyone knows you’ve liked Beta Oliver for years but can’t admit it,” a Luna’s voice said. “I was just helping you get closure. Your mate deserves to know the truth too. Once the truth is out, he’ll back off.”
Lily’s response was sharp, filled with frustration. “My affairs are none of your business. Don’t meddle in my life again.”
Dylan leaned against the wall, his heart tightening at the words, but he did his best to remain composed. Deep inside, he knew the truth. But hearing it out loud, in the cold harshness of the words, made it all the more painful.
He chuckled softly, a sound devoid of humor, before turning to enter the men’s restroom. Once inside, he splashed cold water on his face, the icy shock jolting him into clarity. He needed to regain control—he couldn’t lose his temper now.
Grabbing his phone, he quickly typed out a message to Lily. “Let’s go. I’m waiting outside.”
Minutes later, Lily appeared in the hallway, her bag slung over her shoulder. She appeared calmer, though the slight tremor in her hands betrayed her true emotions.
As they reached the entrance, Dylan’s phone rang. It was his Luna mother, and he answered it without hesitation, his voice flat and emotionless as he replied to her concerns about an unrelated matter.
"Yeah, I'm ready to leave anytime soon."
When the call ended, Lily looked up at him, a question in her eyes. “Leave? Where are you going?”
