Elara's POV:
"Excuse me," I said, stopping the young waitress. I pitched my voice to sound flustered and new. "My supervisor sent me. I'm supposed to take that tray up to the balcony? I think I'm running late."
She looked me up and down, but my dress was just plain enough to pass for a uniform. With a shrug, she handed me the heavy silver tray. "Good luck. They're not a patient bunch up there."
My heart hammered against my ribs as I approached the staircase. I kept my eyes fixed on the crystal glasses, avoiding the guards' gaze. They gave me a cursory glance, saw the tray, and let me pass without a word.
The plush runner on the stairs muffled my footsteps. As I reached the top of the landing, I could hear Cain's voice drifting from the partially open balcony doors.
"…with Isolde, my bloodline will be purified. Our children will be true nobility." His tone was smug, self-satisfied.
A deeper, gravelly voice—the Beta's—replied, "You'd do well to remember your place, Blackwood. Alpha Lycan's generosity is not without its limits."
*Bloodline? Purified?* The strange, archaic words made me think of old, aristocratic families obsessed with their lineage. It was all about status. The thought only fueled my rage. He was up here planning his dynasty while I was left with nothing.
I took a final, fortifying breath and pushed the door open.
"Cain."
The sound of my voice, though quiet, cut through their conversation like a shard of glass. Both men spun around.
The smile on Cain's face vanished, instantly replaced by a mask of pure, unadulterated shock. His hazel eyes widened, and a flicker of rage ignited within them. The Beta beside him simply narrowed his eyes, his gaze sweeping over me with a cold, dangerous appraisal.
I ignored the older man, my focus entirely on Cain. I walked towards him, the tray still in my hands. "I need an explanation. A real one."
He recovered quickly, his shock hardening into a sneer. "An explanation?" he spat, his voice a low, vicious hiss. "What right do you have to demand anything?"
He raked his eyes over me, from my damp hair to my simple dress. "Look at you, Elara. You look like a lost little servant. Do you have any idea how out of place you are here?"
Every word was a calculated strike. "Our two years together? That was a diversion. A bit of fun while I waited for something real. Did you honestly believe I could ever love someone so... profoundly *human*?"
That word again. *Human*. He said it like it was a disease. The venom in his voice was more painful than any physical blow.
The Beta seemed to have lost interest. "Handle your messes, Blackwood," he said with a dismissive wave, before turning and walking back into the ballroom, leaving us alone.
My last defense crumbled. "So it was all a lie?" My voice trembled. "When you said you loved me? When we talked about our future?"
Cain let out a short, cruel laugh. "Of course, it was. The Silvermanes were always the goal. You? You were just a stepping stone. A comfortable one, I'll admit, but a stepping stone nonetheless."
That was it. The final, killing blow. Any lingering shred of love or hope I had for the man I thought I knew died in that moment.
The grief was instantly consumed by a cold, clear rage. My gaze dropped to the tray in my hands, to the flute of ruby-red champagne intended for him.
Slowly, deliberately, I picked it up.
Cain's eyes narrowed. "What do you think you're doing? Don't you dare make a scene."
"A scene?" A broken, desolate smile touched my lips. "You're the one who drove me to this."
With a flick of my wrist, I threw the entire glass of champagne onto the front of his pristine, white custom-tailored suit.
The dark red liquid bloomed across his chest like a grotesque flower. His face went from pale to a deep, mottled red. The shock in his eyes was replaced by pure fury.
I dropped the empty glass onto the tray. It clattered against the silver.
"Now we're even."
