Chapter 127 One-hundred And Twenty-seven

• Abel
• The champagne tasted like ash, but I sipped it anyway, maintaining the facade. Three months since that night. Three months of constant pain that I'd learned to compartmentalize into background noise. The formal function with allied packs required my presence, and I'd be damned if anyone saw weakness in their king.
• I'd positioned myself strategically near the massive windows overlooking the city - close enough to observe everything while avoiding tedious small talk. My reflection in the glass showed what the bond had cost me: sharp cheekbones more pronounced from weight loss, shadows under my eyes that no amount of sleep could cure. But my posture remained perfect, my presence still commanding. No omega would bring the Lycan King to his knees, mate bond or not.