Rise of the Betrayed Luna

15

KNOX

Celeste Price, no, Celeste Morrison now stood beside me. Her expression was cold, but her posture was perfect. Something was wrong with her. I felt it all day. She looked like she was in mourning, not like a woman who had just been wed. She hadn’t smiled once through the entire evening, and somehow, that made her even more mesmerizing.

The party was finally over, but my mind wasn’t.

I’d been restless since the ceremony. I was tense, distracted, too aware of her every breath and every flicker of her gaze. From the moment the officiant had spoken the final words, I’d felt her everywhere. I told myself it was just the bond. But that was a lie. I’d been obsessed with Celeste long before the bond. Now, with her as my Luna, that obsession was consuming.

We left the packhouse surrounded by guards and attendants. She walked beside me in silence with her chin lifted high like she was being led to execution rather than to the house I’d chosen for tonight. It was the same house I’d taken her to when I’d found her half-dead in the woods weeks ago.

It was secluded, quiet, and protected by dense forests and wards. No one could disturb us there. It was perfect; too perfect, judging by how stiff her shoulders had become the moment she realized where we were going. I couldn’t tell if she was terrified or furious. Probably both.

My wolf clawed at my control, restless from the energy of the night, desperate to claim what was mine. I clenched my jaw. But that didn’t stop the hunger. The need to protect. The need to possess.

When we finally arrived at the door of the secluded house, I dismissed the attendants with a curt nod. Celeste didn’t move. She stood on the threshold, hands clasped tightly, her gaze fixed on the wooden floor like it might crack open and swallow her.

“This way,” I said quietly, opening the door.

She didn’t look at me, but she followed.

Inside, the fire I’d ordered to be lit earlier crackled low in the hearth. I’d chosen this house because it was peaceful and because I thought it might make her feel safe. But now, standing in that dim light, I realized how stupid that was. She would never feel safe with me.

I led her down the hall to the room we were meant to share. The bed was large, draped in white linens. A decanter of wine waited on the table. Everything looked perfect, and yet she stood at the edge of the room like a trapped animal.

She didn’t speak until the sound of the last footsteps outside faded.

“Get out.” She said, finally.

I turned slowly, my brows rising. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she snapped. “Get out of my room.”

I blinked, then gave a low, humourless laugh. “Your room? I thought this was our room, wife.”

She glared at me. “Don’t play games with me, Morrison. You may be my husband in name, but I am not your property. I’m not your s*x slave. I won’t be treated like one.”

I folded my arms, leaning against the wall. “Who said anything about that? I wasn’t planning to touch you.”

“Liar.”

I straightened, meeting her glare with one of my own. “So you think I’d force myself on you. Is that what you’ve convinced yourself of?”

She scoffed. “You’ve humiliated me before, Morrison. You and your pack of little monsters made my life a living hell too many times to count. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

“That was years ago,” I said through gritted teeth. “We were children. Things have changed.”

“Not enough,” she hissed. “You’re still the same arrogant bastard who thinks the world should bow to him.”

“Maybe,” I said, pushing off the wall. “But at least I’m honest about it.”

Her chin tilted up in defiance, though her breath hitched as I closed the distance between us.

“Why did you even agree to this marriage?” she demanded. “What could you possibly gain from me?”

I stared at her, then scoffed. “Are you kidding me? When are you going to stop pretending? Do you really not see it?

She frowned. “See what?”

“That we’re mates.”

She froze. Then she laughed derisively. “You actually believe that nonsense?”

“It’s not nonsense.”

“It’s an excuse,” she said coldly. “An excuse for weak men who can’t control themselves. The mate bond is a leash, and you wear it proudly.”

I saw red. Before I could stop myself, I crossed the space between us in two strides and grabbed her wrist, pulling her against me. She gasped, her body colliding with mine. The contact sent electricity shooting through my veins.

Her sweet and slightly aroused scent had me dazed momentarily.

“Tell me you don’t feel that,” I growled, my voice rough.

She tried to twist away, but I held on. Her breath came fast, her heart hammering against my chest.

“You’re lying to yourself,” I murmured, leaning closer. “You feel it. The bond. The pull. You can pretend all you want, but your body knows who it belongs to.”

“Let me go.”

“Say it,” I whispered.

“Let me go, Morrison.” Her tone cracked.

My wolf surged forward, desperate to claim, to mark, to own. I dipped my head, my lips brushing the soft skin of her neck. She shivered in my arms, and her hands, which had been pushing weakly at my chest, stilled.

I grazed my teeth along the curve of her throat, right where I was meant to mark her. My wolf growled in approval, urging me on.

But then a faint, foreign scent beneath her skin had me pulling back slightly. I tried to graze the spot again when I felt the scar and scent of another mark.

My breath caught. No. No, it couldn’t be.

I pulled back so sharply she stumbled. My chest heaved, my vision tunnelling as the truth sank in. She’d been marked.

I stared at the faint imprint, the healed bite that marred her perfect skin. It wasn’t mine.

“What the hell is this?” My voice was a growl before I even realized it.

Celeste pulled back, her eyes wide, terror flickering across her face.

I stepped away from her like I’d been burned. “Who marked you?”

Silence.

My heart slammed against my ribs. “Answer me!”

She swallowed hard. “It’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?” My voice rose. “Because I can feel it, Celeste. Another man’s mark. On my mate.”

She let out a breath and looked away.

“Celeste,” I said slowly, my voice shaking with barely controlled rage. “What is that?”

She didn’t answer.

“Don’t you dare lie to or ignore me,” I snarled. “Have you been mated before?”

She said nothing.

I took a step forward. “Answer me!”

Finally, she whispered, “Yes.”

It was like being punched in the chest. My wolf roared, the sound echoing in my head. I staggered back, shaking. The woman who had haunted me for years, who I’d searched for and dreamed of, had belonged to someone else.

“Who?” I demanded. “Who was he?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter!” I roared, slamming my fist into the wall. The wood splintered. “You were mine! From the moment I scented you all those years ago, you were supposed to be mine!”

“You don’t own me, Knox!” she shot back. “You never did! What gives you the right to think you can claim me now, after everything? You have no idea what I’ve been through!”

“Then tell me!” I shouted. “Tell me where you’ve been! Tell me what happened to you!”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “No.”

The silence that followed was unbearable.

I ran a hand through my hair, pacing, breathing hard. My wolf was pacing too, howling, tearing at the inside of my skull.

“Did you love him?”

She hesitated, and that was all the answer I needed. Pure blinding rage consumed me. I’d spent half my life wanting her, imagining her, searching for her. And all the while, she’d been someone else’s.

“You let me chase a ghost,” I said bitterly. “All this time. You let me—” I stopped, shaking my head. “Fuck.”

She crossed her arms, her chin lifting. “I didn’t ask you to chase me.”

I stared at her, this woman I’d wanted to be mine, and all I could see was betrayal. “You should have told me before the wedding.”

“I didn’t owe you that,” she said quietly.

I laughed. “You mated another man, Celeste. You think that doesn’t matter?”

“It only matters to you,” she snapped, “because you see me as something to own.”

My wolf snapped. She was mine! Always mine!

I turned away before I did something I’d regret. The walls were closing in, my blood boiling, my heart splintering in ways I didn’t know were possible. I’d never been heartbroken before. Never even thought it possible. But this felt like dying.

Without another word, I stormed out, slamming the door behind me.

The night swallowed me whole. I shifted mid-stride, bones snapping, fur tearing through skin. My wolf hit the ground running, howling into the cold air, the pain in my chest ripping free as sound.