Ava Galliano: The Last Dark Queen

The Truth

Isa awoke to loud, persistent banging on the bedroom door. The bed was cold, and the absence of warmth beside her sent an unwelcome chill down her spine. She furrowed her brow—how long had Marcus been gone? And how long had she been asleep? Groggily, she stretched and glanced around. The room was dim, and the air was thick with the remnants of a restless night.

Groaning, Isa pulled on her nightie, stumbling toward the door. When she opened it, Jace stood in the doorway, his expression tense, though there was a flicker of relief in his eyes when he saw her.

She didn’t hide the annoyance on her face. "Jesus Christ, Jace, what the f**k do you want?"

"Just making sure you were alright. We hadn’t heard from you for a while." He glanced over her, noting her disheveled appearance with a frown.

Isa raised an eyebrow, her irritation palpable. "Well, for your information, I was sleeping. And it was a perfect sleep too, which I’d very much like to get back to, if that’s alright with you."

Jace hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with her sharp tone. "Thought you might like some lunch. It’s one thirty."

"One thirty?" Isa blinked, her exhaustion creeping into her voice. "Right, I’ll be down."

She shut the door with a soft click and turned toward the window. She pulled the heavy curtain aside, squinting as the harsh light streamed into the room, almost blinding her. Twenty hours of sleep, she realized. It had been ages since she'd slept so long, and the sensation was foreign, almost uncomfortable.

After a quick shower, she dressed and made her way downstairs. The scent of food wafted through the house, mixing with the chatter in the dining room. She felt the tension knot in her stomach. The last thing she wanted was to be surrounded by people, especially Marcus. But she steeled herself and entered, taking her place at the table.

Marcus was seated at the head, and Isa couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. She grabbed a plate and sat down, a few seats away from him, but the weight of his presence felt suffocating. The others at the table exchanged polite smiles, but the air was thick with unspoken words.

The meal passed in a strange, heavy silence. Isa picked at her food before quickly excusing herself. She couldn’t stay cooped up any longer.

In the backyard, she found her usual spot—an isolated corner by a large oak tree, where she could think and breathe. The air was crisp, and the countryside stretched out before her in a quiet, peaceful way that always helped her clear her head.

Isa closed her eyes, letting the silence wash over her. But the moment didn’t last long. She tensed as a hand landed on her shoulder, breaking her daydream.

"If you’ve come out here for an apology, you can save it," Isa said, her voice sharp. She turned to face Marcus, her eyes narrowing. "I admit, I might have gotten a little carried away. I’m not always in control."

Isa smirked bitterly, shaking her head. "No need. It should be me who’s apologizing. I knew you'd rile me up eventually. And my wolf? Well, she didn’t take kindly to me rejecting you. It’s been a while since I left my ex-wife, but… you know how it goes."

Marcus’s brow furrowed, his expression hardening. "It was Lady Priscilla. That’s how she knew of you."

Isa’s gaze shifted downward, the pieces falling into place. She had figured out the connection a while ago. It was the only explanation that made sense. The way Marcus had reacted, the way his walls came crashing down when Lady Priscilla was mentioned—it all clicked. But hearing it from him made her feel… disappointed.

Marcus exhaled sharply, sinking down beside her on the grass. He knew the truth was inevitable. The past always had a way of creeping back, especially when it was tied to something as significant as his failed marriage.

Isa finally turned to him, her voice softer now. "What happened between you two?"

The question was simple, but it sent a jolt of discomfort through Marcus. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to dredge up the past, but he knew he couldn’t avoid it forever.

"We met in the vampire council," Marcus began, his voice tinged with a quiet regret. "She was just an assistant back then, trying to get help with some of her laws. As we grew closer, she found out that I was part wolf. I tried everything to keep my vampire side in check, to be fully wolf. It was difficult, but she stayed by my side. Eventually, we got married, moved here to start our own pack."

Marcus paused, the weight of those years pressing down on him. "We were married for nearly seventy years before she asked about my mate."

Isa stiffened, the words hanging in the air between them. "I guess she was hoping she was yours."

Marcus let out a humorless laugh, the sound dry. "Yeah. But I told her I’d already met my mate a long time ago. And that I rejected her."

Isa’s heart clenched at the honesty in his voice. She could hear the pain in his words, the regret he hadn’t fully confronted. But the truth was, Isa wasn’t sure if she wanted him to apologize anymore. She had learned long ago that some scars weren’t meant to be healed.

"She went berserk," Marcus continued, his voice lowering. "She demanded to know who my mate was. I didn’t want to tell her. But in the end, I had to. I told her your first name, Isa. I told her you were dead, that there was no one left to remember you. She left me three weeks later. Filed for divorce, just like that."

Isa's throat tightened, but she didn’t know how to respond. She had always believed that love was supposed to be unconditional, but she wasn’t sure if Marcus had ever truly loved Priscilla the way she deserved. He had rejected her once, and now he was left with the aftermath of a marriage broken by lies.

"I'm sorry I was the subject of your failed marriage," Isa said quietly, her voice unsteady.

Marcus shook his head, his eyes darkening. "It’s not your fault. I didn’t think she would go this far. I just—” He stopped himself, struggling to find the right words. "I knew I damaged you, and I thought I could never face you again. I hoped you’d find a second chance mate before all of this happened."

Isa let out a bitter laugh. "There are no second chances for me, Marcus. A second chance mate is a myth. And maybe she was hoping you’d realize your mistake and come running back to her."

Marcus clenched his jaw. "But I don’t want anything to do with that vile woman. She can rot in hell for all I care."

Isa’s heart raced, and for a moment, she almost believed him. The heat in his voice, the determination in his eyes—it was raw, unfiltered. It was a side of Marcus she hadn’t seen in a long time. But was it enough to heal the wounds they both carried?

As she sat there, the weight of his confession settled between them, unspoken but undeniable. Neither of them could go back to who they were before. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. But maybe, just maybe, they could find a way forward—together.