Page 123 of Untamed

All I can do is watch Ares.

He doesn’t look at me.

Doesn’t shake his head. Doesn’t speak.

He just sits there, quiet. Impossibly still.

Like he’s already accepted his fate.

And I don’t understand why.

My pulse roars in my ears, drowning out the sound of chairs shifting and glasses clinking, and all I can think is, why isn’t he saying anything?

Why isn’t he reacting? Why isn’t he standing up, slamming his fist down, calling it what it is, insane, wrong,impossible?

Why isn’t he looking at his father and telling himno?

Why is he just...sitting there?

Like, this is all normal and was always going to happen. Like what happened between us last night or this morning meantnothing.

LikeI…mean nothing.

My heart is pounding so hard I’m afraid they can hear it. Every instinct is screaming to run, to flee the table, the garden, but I stay still. Frozen in time, my limbs refuse to move. Damn it, wasn’t he the one who whispered…you’re mine.

I keep watching him. Waiting for him tofight—but he doesn’t.

He just continues to stare into his coffee, his jaw like granite and throbbing.

And in that moment, I don’t know if I want to cry, or scream, or reach across the table andshake himuntil he remembers I’m right here, thathe’s mine.

But I do none of those things.

Instead, I sit silent, my hands trembling against the table’s edge, clutching the moment like a fragile thread threatening to snap.

I stay seated because standing up would draw too much attention, be too dramatic. I won't give anyone, especially him, the satisfaction of seeing me unravel. So I sit, my back straight, my expression neutral, though every part of me is screaming to escape.

Under the table, my leg begins to bounce, softly at first, a rhythm only I can feel. Then it grows quicker, more urgent as the minutes go by, as if staying still will cause me to explode. I bitethe inside of my cheek until I taste blood, and dig my nails into my palms, leaving tiny crescent marks.

Bianca casts a worried glance my way. I force a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes and quickly avert my gaze. If she so much as asks if I’m alright, I might shatter right here in front of everyone.

How can something as natural as breathing feel impossible? Yet it does. I feel like I’m suffocating. I can’t keep pretending to be okay. So, I do the only thing I can. I grip the chair and push it back. The sharp scrape of the legs against the tiled floor slices through the quiet hum of conversation like a warning shot.

That’s when he finally looks at me. Ares lifts his head. At last. Our eyes meet across the table, and for a split second, the entire world narrows down to just this.

Just him and me.

And everything neither of us can say.

I don’t look away.

Not this time.

Instead, I steady my voice, lean in just slightly, and say quietly, just loud enough for him to hear. “Congratulations.” It’s not a blessing. It’s a blade. And I hope it cuts him as deeply as his engagement has cut me.

“Uh, please, excuse me. I’ve consumed too many pastries this morning. I’m going to go for a walk.” I lie with a forced smile, loud enough for everyone to hear. I don’t know if anyone believes me, because the pastry on my plate remains untouched, and I honestly don’t care whether they believe it or not.

I turn and walk away, and I don’t look back.

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