Chosen as the Cursed Alpha's Seventh Bride

Chapter 264: Chapter 264 The Wallflower

Lily’s POV

Seeing the message Emilia sent me, I wanted to hurl my phone across the room.

That woman knew exactly which nerve to press. The thought of her actually telling Scott I’d been quietly pining after him for years made my stomach drop straight through the floor.

So I caved.

"Fine. But this is the first and last time, you hear me?"

Goddess only knew how much of my pride I’d just handed over to keep that one secret buried.

That evening, I sat on the edge of my bed, seriously considering faking my own death. Celebrating Scott’s birthday in Emilia’s place? I didn’t even have to see it to picture the exact look on his face when he opened that door and found me instead of her. That flicker of disappointment. It would gut me.

After a long, miserable war with myself, I changed into something decent and drove to the address Emilia had sent.

Standing outside the private room, I froze all over again. My hand hovered inches from the door. Knock, don’t knock. Knock, don’t knock.

Then the door swung open on its own, and there he was. Scott Hanson, Alpha of the Lightning Pack, standing tall in a crisp suit.

He looked even more startled than I felt.

"Lily? What are you doing here?"

"I... um..." My mind went completely blank.

His eyes narrowed. "Where’s Emilia?"

"She had something come up last minute," I managed. "She asked me to come have dinner with you instead."

And there it was. That look. Exactly the one I’d dreaded the whole drive over. His shoulders dropped just slightly, his expression dimming like someone had turned down a light.

"Right. Come in, then," he said. "I wasn’t holding my breath she’d show anyway."

He played it off, cool and unbothered, but I’d loved this man in secret long enough to see through him.

We sat across from each other. He uncorked a bottle of red and glanced up. "You drink?"

"I’ll take a glass."

He poured one for me, one for himself, then gestured at the spread on the table. "Eat. No need to sit there looking so stiff."

Then he went quiet and started drinking. One glass. Then another. Then another.

I watched him and felt something in my chest twist. He wouldn’t be drowning himself in silence like this if the person sitting here were Emilia.

"I rushed over, so I didn’t have time to grab a proper gift," I said, sliding a rolled canvas across the table. "It’s a painting. I did it myself. Happy birthday."

"Thanks."

He set it aside without so much as a glance.

My heart cracked a little wider. Even if he couldn’t care less about me, would it have killed him to just look?

Before long the wine caught up with him, and the words started spilling out on their own.

"Lily, tell me something. Do all women fall for the bad ones? Guys like Sebastian Simons..." He laughed, bitter and low. "Emilia’s got terrible taste. She could’ve picked a man like me. She’s going to regret it one day. She will. But that’s fine. I can wait. I’ll wait until she finally sees she made the wrong call, and then... then we’ll be happy together."

I knew that day would never come. After all, Sebastian and Emilia were fated mates. Finding a fated mate was rare among werewolves, so most wolves chose someone they loved as their mate instead.

But I wasn’t about to be the one to tell him. Just like I knew he’d never love me, yet still let myself dream he might one day wake up and regret overlooking a woman like me.

"You’re her best friend, aren’t you," he went on, slurring now. "So tell me. What’s her heart even made of? How does she just keep pretending I don’t exist? I knew her before Sebastian ever did. I loved her first. So why won’t she play by the rules?"

"Because love isn’t a game, Scott. She doesn’t have to play by anyone else’s rules." My voice came out low and firm."It doesn’t matter who got there first. Feelings are feelings. And if they’re not there, they’re just not there."

"Maybe it really is all down to fate," he muttered. "Three years I chased her. Three. And Sebastian locked her down in three months. I can’t wrap my head around it."

His eyes were glassy now, wet at the edges. And watching this proud man come undone over someone who’d never look back at him, I felt my throat close up. How much did one woman have to mean to a man for him to sit here crying over her?

Then he folded forward, forehead resting on his arms, and the rambling stopped. His breathing evened out.

"Scott?" I whispered, reaching over to nudge his shoulder.

Nothing. He was out cold.

That’s when the tears I’d been swallowing all night finally broke loose. I cried into my wine glass, drinking through the sobs until a warm, dizzy haze settled over me.

I lay my head down on the table and slowly stretched my trembling hand across it, brushing my fingertips against his cheek.

"You’re just like me," I breathed. "In love with someone who never even notices. Both of us stuck bleeding on the inside, crying where no one can see."

The wine loosened everything I’d kept locked away for so long.

"I never minded being the wallflower you walked right past. What I mind is watching you put your whole life on hold for someone who will never love you back. Loving someone should mean wanting them to be happy. I want you to find something that’s actually yours, Scott. A life that’s actually yours. Not spending it staring at scenery that’ll never belong to you. Even if it’s never me, I just... I don’t want to see you drowning the way I’ve been drowning."

I shut my eyes, and the tears slid free down my lashes. The room swayed, warm and blurred, and I let myself sink into it.

And then I heard a voice through the fog that made me want to crawl under the nearest table.

"So it turns out the person you’ve been in love with is me."

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