The lost mate
Chapter 87: The Party

Chapter 87: The Party

Anne stared out the window of the car as the landscape blurred past, her mind racing with thoughts she wished she could banish. It was just a coincidence, she told herself for the hundredth time. There’s no connection between Damien and Jennifer. 1

But no matter how many times she repeated it, the feeling gnawed at her like a dull ache, refusing to let go. She had never been one for superstition or conspiracy, yet there was something unsettling about everything.

Anne glanced at Damien from the corner of her eye. He sat behind the wheel, his face calm and composed. His strong jaw, the stubble he never quite got rid of, the way his dark eyes flicked briefly towards her before focusing back on the road

"Anne?" Damien’s deep voice broke through her thoughts. "You’ve been quiet for a while now. Are you okay?" He turned his head slightly, his brows knitting together in concern. "You look worried."

Anne’s heart skipped a beat. Damn it, he noticed. She quickly forced a smile, one that she hoped didn’t look as fake as it felt. "Oh, it’s nothing," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "I just... I guess I’m tired from all the running around today. That’s all."

Damien didn’t look entirely convinced. His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer before he nodded, his attention returning to the road.

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Anne stood in front of the mirror, her hands trembling slightly as she adjusted the straps of her gown. The dress was nothing short of breathtaking—a shimmering gold masterpiece that cascaded down her body like liquid metal. The fabric caught the light with every movement, making her look almost ethereal, like she had stepped straight out of a dream. She had never worn anything so extravagant before, and it felt... strange. Exciting, but strange.

Her hair was swept up into an elegant bun, with a few loose curls framing her face. The makeup was simple but flawless, enhancing her natural beauty without overpowering it. As she turned from side to side, taking in the full effect, she almost didn’t recognise herself.

A knock at the door startled her out of her thoughts. "Anne? You ready?" Damien’s voice carried through the room, calm and steady.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. Damien stood there, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, looking every bit the powerful Alpha he was. His dark hair was slicked back, and his chiselled jaw was clean-shaven. But it wasn’t his appearance that caught her off guard—it was the way his eyes widened when he saw her. His gaze travelled from the top of her perfectly styled hair to the tips of her golden heels, and for a moment, he seemed at a loss for words.

"You..." Damien cleared his throat, stepping closer, his eyes still fixed on her. "You look incredible."

A blush crept up Anne’s cheeks. "Thank you," she said softly, feeling a warmth spread through her at his praise.

He reached out and took her hand, his fingers brushing hers lightly before squeezing gently. "I mean it, Anne. You look... ethereal."

The word made her heart flutter. She smiled up at him, feeling more grounded and confident with his steady hand in hers. "You don’t look too bad yourself," she teased, though her voice was soft, almost shy.

He chuckled, a low, warm sound that settled in her chest. "Shall we?" Damien gestured towards the door, and Anne nodded.

As they made their way to the party venue, Anne’s thoughts drifted back to Ryan. It was the first time she was attending any formal event with Damien, and the thought of leaving Ryan behind had made her anxious. But Damien’s old nurse, Carla, had come over to babysit him. It was a relief to know that Ryan was in good hands.

They arrived at the venue shortly after, the grand estate glowing under the moonlight, its marble pillars and arched windows giving it an air of timeless elegance. The sound of laughter and chatter spilt out onto the driveway, and as they walked up the steps, Anne felt her stomach tighten with nerves.

Damien seemed to sense her unease. As they reached the entrance, he leant down and whispered, "Don’t worry. You’ll be perfect."

His words gave her the boost she needed, and when the grand doors opened, revealing the bustling room filled with Alphas and pack members, she straightened her back and lifted her chin slightly. She could do this. She had to.

The ballroom was stunning, with high, vaulted ceilings adorned with crystal chandeliers that sparkled like stars. The room was alive with energy—guests mingling, laughing, and sipping champagne as waiters weaved through the crowd. The men were dressed in formal suits and tuxedos, while the women wore dresses in every shade of the rainbow, jewels glittering at their throats and wrists.

But none of them, Anne noticed, were wearing anything like her gown. The gold shimmered under the chandelier’s light, drawing eyes as they entered. She could feel people looking at her—some curious, others surprised. She had never been the centre of attention before, and it was a little overwhelming.

Damien’s hand remained firmly at her lower back, guiding her through the crowd as people approached to greet him. As expected, he was a magnet for attention—many of the pack’s Alphas and leaders flocked to him, eager to exchange pleasantries. But Damien didn’t let go of her. His arm stayed protectively around her, his fingers brushing against the fabric of her gown in a way that made her heart race.

"Damien," an older man said, stepping forward to shake his hand. "Good to see you again. And who is this lovely woman with you?"

Anne braced herself, but Damien didn’t miss a beat. He smiled, introducing her with confidence that made her feel, for the first time, like she belonged here. "This is Anne. My mate."

As the night wore on, Anne found herself more at ease. Damien stayed close, and though the conversations revolved around pack matters, business, and alliances, he made sure she wasn’t left out. At one point, he even leant down and whispered a joke in her ear, making her laugh quietly into her glass of champagne.

Sometime later Anne was on her own, sipped her champagne, scanning the room. Damien had excused himself moments ago and pulled into a conversation with some of the other Alphas about territorial disputes. She didn’t mind. He had been by her side all evening, and now she had a moment to breathe, to absorb the atmosphere.

As she set her glass down on a passing tray, she caught sight of a man approaching her from across the room. He was tall, with broad shoulders that stretched the fabric of his suit just enough to hint at the power beneath. His dark hair, streaked with silver at the temples, framed a handsome, chiselled face.

"Good evening," he said, his voice deep and smooth, like velvet sliding over steel. "I thought he would never leave."

Anne looked confused, then realised he was talking about Damien.

His lips curled into a smile at her bemused face.

"I am Alpha Blaze, Damien’s uncle."