CHAPTER 202: THE TASTE OF JEALOUSY

Varen

The hall smelled of polished oak, crushed berries, and the faint sweetness of perfume drifting off Josie’s skin. I could pick it out even among hundreds. Her scent always called to something deep in me—something primal, possessive, irrational. Tonight, it only made me restless.

I stood at the far end of the chamber, my back pressed against a marble pillar as I watched her shift uneasily on her feet. My brothers flanked her—Kiel on her right, Thorne on her left—guiding her toward the altar with hands resting protectively on her shoulders. The sight burned through me like acid. She looked so small between them, her eyes darting around the room like a trapped bird.

Then she stopped. Her voice, soft but steady, broke through the murmurs of the crowd. "Wait," she said, turning slightly to look at me. "Varen—it’s not what you think."

Her gaze tried to reach me, but I looked away. I couldn’t bear it. I could feel the pressure of her words in my chest, but I shut them out, shutting her out. My jaw tightened as I walked away from the altar, ignoring the whispers that rippled through the hall.

I found the wine chamber without even trying. The air there was cooler, quieter, filled only with the scent of oak barrels and old liquor. I grabbed a bottle—something expensive, something aged—and poured until the liquid spilled over my fingers. I took a long drink, then another, until the burn hit my throat and spread down to my gut.

It didn’t help. Nothing ever did.

When I returned to the edge of the banquet, the sight before me nearly split me in two. Josie was laughing softly—laughing—as Kiel adjusted something on her sleeve. Thorne leaned closer, whispering something that made her flush. To anyone else, it might’ve looked like friendly teasing, but to me... it looked intimate. Too intimate.

They were touching her like they owned her. And she was letting them.

I clenched the glass so hard that cracks split across it. I couldn’t hear what she was saying over the hum of conversation, but the way she smiled at them—gently, nervously—made it worse. My brothers had always been everything I wasn’t: smooth, charming, calm. I was the storm no one wanted to invite in.

My storm. Her storm.

The music rose, a lilting, string-heavy piece that sent people spilling onto the dance floor. I turned away, trying to focus on anything else. My Beta, Rowan, came to me, talking about the elders’ approval for the ceremony, but I barely heard him. I gave him a nod, maybe a few clipped words. I couldn’t stay here. Not with them all watching me unravel.

Then I heard it—Thorne’s voice, echoing across the room, gushing to the crowd about Josie.

"Love," he said, raising his glass toward her, "is everything for us. It’s not something we find—it’s something we build. And I couldn’t do life without her."

The words hit like a knife between my ribs. Us. We. He was speaking like Josie belonged to them, like she was part of some shared fantasy they’d built together.

My stomach twisted. I turned, ready to leave, when I saw her.

At the far edge of the room, standing by the open balcony doors, was Iggy.

I blinked once, twice—sure I was imagining it. But it was her. My oldest friend, the one who’d vanished to another pack years ago without a word. She looked different now—taller, her dark hair pulled back, a soft gleam of confidence in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

I didn’t think. I just walked toward her, my steps quick and uneven. Kiel called my name once, but I didn’t look back.

"Iggy," I said when I reached her.

She turned, smiling faintly. "Varen. You look... different."

"Good different?" I asked, trying to force a smirk.

"Better," she said, and the warmth in her voice did something strange to me. "You look like you’ve grown into yourself."

I laughed under my breath, the sound bitter. "If by that you mean ’a mess,’ then sure."

She tilted her head, studying me. "I heard you found your mate."

I nodded once. "Yeah. Josie." I didn’t say her full name; it already tasted heavy on my tongue.

"She’s beautiful," Iggy said softly. "And you—well, you always were the possessive type. I’m guessing she’s the one keeping you in line now?"

I snorted. "Keeping me off balance, more like." I took another sip from the glass in my hand. "But tell me something first—are you still single?"

Her brows lifted. "That’s a strange question for a mated man."

"I didn’t say happily mated," I muttered.

She hesitated, then laughed lightly. "I’m not with anyone. I’ve been... busy. I’m a doctor now, Varen. Can you believe that?"

I raised a brow. "A doctor, huh? I always did like industrious women."

Her cheeks warmed, but before she could answer, a hand closed around my arm.

"Excuse me," Josie’s voice cut in, sharp as broken glass. She was standing too close—close enough that I could feel the tremor in her breath. "I need to take my mate for a moment."

Her words were polite, but the look she gave Iggy wasn’t. It was cold, territorial, a shade of fury I hadn’t seen in her before.

Iggy blinked. "Oh, I—"

"I said I need to take him," Josie repeated, tugging at my arm.

I yanked it back. "Don’t, Josie." My voice came out rough, edged with something dark. "I’m talking."

"To her?" Josie snapped. "You just left your brothers mid-ceremony and now you’re flirting with some woman like nothing happened!"

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "You don’t get to tell me who I talk to. You made it clear back there that you don’t want me."

"That’s not—"

"It’s exactly that." I laughed without humor. "You stood there, smiling while they touched you like you were theirs, and I’m the one crossing the line?"

People were starting to look. I could feel the air in the room tighten.

"Varen, please," Kiel’s voice came from behind us, low and warning. He tried to smile at the onlookers, his tone turning playful. "Our brother here’s had too much to drink—ignore him. He gets dramatic when he’s jealous."

"Jealous?" I hissed, turning on him. "You think this is jealousy?"

Josie grabbed my wrist again, but I shook her off. The glass in my hand slipped and shattered against the floor, spilling red across the marble like blood.

Iggy stepped back, hands raised. "Maybe I should—"

"Don’t go," I said quickly, the words spilling before I could stop them. "I’m not done."

The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut. Josie stared at me like I’d just stabbed her.

Kiel swore under his breath and moved between us, whispering fiercely, "Varen, stop. Don’t do something you’ll regret."

But I already had.

I could feel everyone watching, waiting for the Alpha to pull himself together, but I couldn’t. Not when I could still see Josie’s trembling lips, the tears threatening in her eyes, and the faint tremor in her hands.

I wanted to take it back, to grab her and tell her that none of it mattered—that I only wanted her. But my pride, my anger, my stupid Alpha instincts—they wouldn’t let me.

Instead, I looked away. My voice came out hoarse when I spoke again, barely a whisper. "You should go, Josie. Before I make this worse."

Kiel exhaled sharply, rubbing his face. "Too late for that, brother."

And maybe he was right.

Because as Josie turned away, her shoulders stiff and her eyes wet, I felt the full weight of what I’d done crash into me.

And for the first time that night, the liquor didn’t burn nearly as much as the hollow ache she left behind.