Switched Bride, True Luna - Chapter 60: Chapter 60

Emily
I told myself I was going for the Pack. But really, I went because staying behind would’ve felt like defeat.
After the audit whispers and Julian’s carefully neutral concern, I needed to be seen. Needed to remind myself I wasn’t crumbling, no matter what the tabloids or staff thought.
Still, as the car pulled up to the charity gala, my palms itched. The kind of itch that came before a shift that never arrived. The kind that warned you something was coming, even if you didn’t know what.
Light from a hundred chandeliers glittered across polished marble, too bright. And gaudy as hell.
I tugged at the edge of my sleeve as I passed the front steps, offering a polite nod to the noble who greeted me at the top.
Tonight was another one of those formal affairs where the food was small, the smiles were fake, and the rumors flowed faster than the wine.
Logan was across the room, already being pulled into conversation by a few older Alphas. I hadn’t meant to separate from him this quickly, but I didn’t stop myself either.
There were too many eyes. Too many expectations.
I made my way toward the roaming waiter, where another flute of champagne could keep me grounded. It was ridiculous, the amount of money spent just to raise more money.
The waiting spotted me and hurried over. Just as I chose a glass, someone behind called out my name.
“Emily.”
My heart froze in the space between beats. I didn’t have to turn around to know. His voice carried that same smooth confidence I remembered. It was warm and polished on the surface, with a glint of steel underneath.
I plastered on a smile and turned towards Michael.
He stood a few feet behind me, dressed in a charcoal suit, his hair perfectly styled like it hadn’t been tousled by guilt or shame a single day in his life.
He looked every bit the rising Alpha he’d always dreamed of becoming.
And beside him, not touching but near, stood a woman I vaguely recognized. Gorgeous. Regal. The only daughter of the Dawnhearth Alpha. I didn’t need an introduction to know what kind of courting season this was.
“Michael,” I said, steadying my voice. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
He gave a small smile. Not smug, but close. “I could say the same. I heard Titanfang’s hosting again. You must be doing well.”
It sounded like a compliment. It wasn’t.
I nodded, refusing to fidget under the weight of his gaze. “I am.”
A pause stretched between us. Neither of us quite sure what to say in earshot of so many busybodies.
Chloe’s name hovered unspoken. Michael’s betrayal, the way I’d found them together…all of it still tore my heart up and I hated that he had any power over me at all.
“I didn’t get the chance to congratulate you,” he said smoothly. “Logan’s a powerful match. Unexpected. But… strategic.”
My smile was tight. “You always did admire strategy.”
He flinched, just a little. “It wasn’t personal, Emily.”
“Of course it was,” I said, softer than he expected.
We stared at each other, the silent argument playing out between us.
I could feel Logan’s presence behind me; he was still across the room but watching. Always watching. I didn’t need to look for him to know he knew exactly where I was and who was next to me.
Michael’s companion leaned in and murmured something, and he responded with a gentle nod. Then he turned back to me, his expression more thoughtful now.
Another pause. Then he nodded once and I had to get away from this conversation and into some fresh air.
“You look good,” he said, like that made up for anything.
I tilted my head. “I am good. Enjoy the party, Michael.” I gave his companion a tight smile and excused myself.
My fingers curled at my side. I’d spent countless hours wondering what I’d say if I ever saw him again. None of those words had come.
Instead, I drifted towards the exterior doors, my heart beating rapidly. It wasn’t broken, but I could still feel bruises in places of my heart I hadn’t noticed in a while.
I finished off the champagne and stepped onto the balcony, needing air. Clean air, not the filtered perfume-drenched glamour that clung to the ballroom like a second skin.
The stone was cold beneath my heels, and I welcomed the bite of it. The wind tugged at the curls pinned above my neck, pulling stray strands loose. It felt better out here.
Logan
The sound of clinking glasses and polite laughter was tolerable, barely.
I stood just off the main ballroom, pretending to be engaged in a conversation with some minor Alpha from the southern ridge. My eyes, however, were locked on Emily across the room.
She was smiling.
Not that tight, performative smile she used for nobles or photo ops. This smile was polite. Controlled.
The man beside her had a practiced ease, shoulders squared like someone who didn’t need to prove himself anymore. His posture wasn’t aggressive, but it was territorial. Familiar.
And when he laughed at something she said, I recognized the sound she made in return.
It wasn’t much. Just a breath of amusement.
But I’d heard it before. In the greenhouse, in the gardens, once on the back stairs late at night when she thought I wasn’t listening. It wasn’t a sound she gave freely.
And now he had it.
“Ah,” came a voice to my left. “That’s Michael, isn’t it? Her ex? Looks like the poor bastard’s trying to reclaim lost territory.”
I didn’t respond. My jaw locked too tightly for that.
The noble chuckled. “You’ve definitely traded up, Alpha. From the outside, anyway.”
He raised his glass toward me in a lazy toast. I gave him a nod I didn’t mean and turned away before I said something I’d regret.
The gut class of my tumbler bit into my palm. I loosened my grip just enough not to shatter it.
Across the room, Michael nodded once, said something final, and then Emily turned to walk away. Not hurried. Not upset. Just… distant. Her face was unreadable, which made it worse.
I didn’t know what had passed between them. Only that she hadn’t looked at Michael like he was a threat. And she hadn’t looked at me at all.
Michael stayed behind, lingering too long, watching her leave. The way his gaze followed her made something in my chest pull tight. That kind of looking meant unfinished business. It meant regret. Or worse—intent.
And I wasn’t sure what would be worse: if she returned that intent, or if she had once and never would again.
I exhaled, a slow controlled breath through my nose, and finished what was left in my glass.
Emily disappeared behind a group of elders near the exit, her dress catching the light like water slipping through fingers. She needed space. And I didn’t need to make a public scene.
But stars above, I wanted to punch something.
I caught Michael looking in my direction a moment later. Not smug. Not aggressive. Just cool. Confident.
Like he knew things about her I never would. The thought made my throat tighten.
I excused myself from the conversation I was barely pretending to have. Instinct drover me to follow Emily towards the balcony.
It wasn’t just jealousy I was feeling. It was frustration.
No matter what we shared in private, what we were building, quietly, carefully; one sharp smile from the past could make me feel like I was losing ground I hadn’t even claimed yet.
I braced my hands against the doors and stared through the glass at the stunning woman who had my emotions on a roller coaster.
You’re not hers, I told myself. And she’s not yours.
But it didn’t matter. Because I wanted her to be.
And watching another man look at her like she once belonged to him made every part of me want to fight.