The Golden Lycans (Ella) novel Chapter 76

< You Cannot be Serious?

+25 Point

You Cannot be Serious?

***Ella***

As the third course ends, a server places a coffee in front of me, along with a small bowl of after-dinner mints. I immediately grab a hardful; no way was I letting any coffee breath finger. As I sip, my mind drifts to the meal we just had, the courses eerily identical to what Austin and I ate on

our date.

That couldn’t be a coincidence.

Before I can dwell on it, though, Freya yanks me to my feet.

“Come on, Els! It’s time to daaaance!” she sings, practically dragging me onto the dance floor as I pop a fifth mint into my mouth.

I stride onto the dance floor with Freya, vivid memories flooding back to me as I realise it is the exact same UV-lit dance floor they’d used for the winter formal. Freya pulls me close to her and

speaks to my ear.

“He has to dance with a few of the higher-ranking pack’s daughters first,” she says, nodding toward Austin as he leads a woman in a red dress onto the floor, “some archaeic, fuddy-duddy protocol. Like the weird hand-kissing thing.”

I hate it.

I privately loathe it. Every second he spends entertaining tradition stretches the ache in my chest tighter, the bond pulling at me, urging me toward him. At the same time, it gives my nerves more room to fester, and I can only hope dancing will shake them loose.

Freya wastes no time finding her rhythm, swaying animatedly before pulling me into a dramatic slow dance when the song shifts. We burst into laughter, and just like that, some of the tension lifts- I can always count on Freya.

I nudge her and nod toward Annabelle and Will, their faces inches apart as they dance. Will catches my eye, and I smile warmly; he grins back, looking entirely captivated by Annabelle.

I’m glad. Really glad.

We’d walked a precarious line after our magic-fueled, heated sofa rendezvous, and yet, somehow, we landed safely on the other side. We were closer than ever, but in a way that now felt oddly siblin g-like. I had accepted what happened between us, but I was grateful for how effortlessly we settled into something platonic.

I was very happy for them, as I continue to watch.

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But I can’t help wondering…was Annabelle his mate?

The way he looked at her that first night had stuck with me, and I was dying to know…

+25 Pointe

***Austin***

The lights dim, casting the room into an glow as the UV lights pulse, illuminating anything remotely white. The atmosphere is heavy with laughter, with movement and joy, but also… the weight of

anticipation.

I give a polite bow to the last of the three women I was forced to dance with-nothing more than a tradition that Atlas and I had no patience for. Then, without a word, I stride over to where my father stands, his sharp gaze surveying the dance floor like a general watching his troops.

He barely looks at me before speaking.

“It’s time, Austin.” His voice is measured, but there’s something expectant in it. “Whenever you’re ready, of course. I remember my own party. The nerves, the hesitation… Approaching a total stranger-it’s not easy.”

His words might’ve meant to reassure me, but they don’t. Instead, they sharpen the edge of my resolve, and I know he is about to face a truth he isn’t going to like.

I glance toward the dance floor, my eyes finding Ella immediately. She and Freya move effortlessly together, laughing, lost in the music, their joy unfiltered and free. A part of me hesitates-I don’t wa nt to interrupt either of them–but we cannot wait any longer. Not after months of knowing, of waiting, of holding back.

I turn slightly. “Ollie, you’re up.”

Ollie stands, methodically shrugging off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves.

“I’ll behave myself, don’t worry,” he says, serious for once, before stepping onto the dance floor.

Dad stiffens beside me. His gaze sharpening as Ollie approaches Freya, tapping her shoulder before smoothly pulling her against him, leading her away from Ella.

Ella immediately stops, her head turning toward me instantly, as if some invisible force had drawn

her attention.

Our eyes lock.

A jolt rushes through me, hot and electric. Her expression-so open, so full of knowing-hits me

like a thunderclap. My pulse pounds in response. She definitely knows, and she feels it too.

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A broad smile spreads across my face-the first in weeks.

+25 Point

“Thankfully, Dad,” I say, still locked in Ella’s gaze, feeling a welcome warmth spread through me,” she’s no stranger.”

There is silence for a moment as we continue to stare at each other, and I can feel my father’s shock and mild fury.

“WHAT?” My father’s voice is sharp, incredulous. His hand clamps down on my arm, fingers

digging in, “No… NO, Austin, you cannot be serious. She’s human!”

I turn to face him fully, defiance hardening my features.

“Trust me, Dad,” I say evenly, “you’re going to like her once you realize exactly what she really is-

and what this means for the future of our pack.”

I begin unfastening my cufflinks, but his grip tightens, his hold no longer just firm but desperate.

“Austin,” he hisses, “I’m sorry, but you must be mistaken. She cannot be your mate! You are my son.

You need a Lycan!”

Something in me, snaps.

I wrench my wrist from his grasp, the cufflinks clattering onto the table with a sharp clink. My chest tightens, not with uncertainty, but with the absolute need to defend her, to defend us.

I square up to him, eyes blazing, feeling bolder than I ever have before.

“Like I said,” I say with a commanding edge, my voice low, “trust me. If not me, then trust Atlas.” I pause just long enough for the words to land before adding, “You might recognize him from the painting on the staircase.”

His brow furrows-then, suddenly, his eyes widen, as understanding dawns.

His breath hitches.

I lean in slightly, my voice final and unyielding.

“You know how our pack began, Dad,” I murmur. “And now…so do I.”

I let it hang in the air, let him process it, before rolling up my sleeves with purpose.

“You can figure it out while I go to my mate,” I finish boldly, turning away from him and stepping onto the dance floor.

Straight toward her.

Well done. He has needed to open his mind for a while and this is how we do that for him. For now, it’s

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go time, Atlas growls.

There she stands…an absolute vision.

+25 Pointe

The moment I lay eyes on her, the breath leaves my lungs, the world around us fading to nothing.

Her dress is breathtaking, sculpting her in a way that makes my chest tighten painfully. Her light blonde hair, usually so free, is woven into an intricate, braided updo. I’ve never seen her like this bef ore. It showcases her neck, almost as if it was meant to tempt me; and it does.

Our eyes lock, the relentless, unbearable pull that has haunted me for months, grips me, dragging me toward her with undeniable force. My feet move of their own accord, propelling me across the floor, cutting through the space between us with singular, absolute purpose. Everything slows, senses narrowing and hyper-focused, zeroing in on her and only her.

She is all that matters.

Why had I ever been nervous? Why had I let doubt creep in? She was made for me, and I was made for her. There was no uncertainty here, no hesitation. Only us.

When I reach her, I don’t stop.

I take her-claim her-my hands locking around her waist, pulling her hips flush against mine. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t step back or flinch. She simply stares up at me, wide-eyed, as if she had been waiting just as long for this moment. Her bright blue eyes shimmer with something deep, a promise to repeat our great history. My forehead presses against hers, and I exhale sharply, relief crashing over me in a tidal wave.

Finally.

Finally, I feel whole again.

I pull her closer, tighter, as if I could fuse us together, as if I could make up for all the lost time in a single embrace. My lips brush against her temple before I shift, burying my face in the crook of her neck. Her scent-sweet and floral, familiar yet intoxicating-fills my lungs and grounds me.

I breathe her in like she is the only thing keeping me alive.

“This all feels rather familiar,” I murmur against her ear, the memory of us, here, on this very same dance floor-flashes through my mind like lightning.

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