Bab 75: 75

75

Mason's POV

Family gatherings were meant to be tedious. They were the kind of events where everyone pretends they care about Aunt Martha's arthritis or how little Timmy won some participation trophy for soccer. But tonight wasn't going to be one of those nights.

Tonight, I was going to have some fun.

The room was buzzing with the usual polite conversation, the occasional forced laugh cutting through the clinking of glasses. I scanned the crowd, my gaze honing in on Adrian, who stood by the fireplace, sipping his drink like he didn't have a care in the world. Arrogant bastard.

Bethany hovered nearby, pretending to listen to some pack member drone on about property taxes or something equally boring. But her eyes weren't on the speaker—they were on Adrian. She was trying to be subtle, glancing at him from under her lashes, but I saw it. The longing. The guilt.

It made my blood boil.