Bond and Betrayal

Chapter 10. Guilt

Orion’s POV

I stared at my phone screen long after my uncle ended the call.

I wasn’t exactly surprised to hear about Aria’s pregnancy, especially considering how close she was to Drake. But what he had done? That enraged me. That boy had crossed every line. He should never have treated Aria so cruelly.

And now, Drake’s fated mate was none other than my own sister.

The weight of guilt settled deep in my chest. I had always been too caught up in my own world, too busy with my duties, my reputation, and the life that came so easily to me. I never paid enough attention to Aria. I should have noticed when she started drifting too close to Drake. I should have been there for her, made sure she never felt alone in the first place.

Especially after everything she had already lost.

I owed her too much.

I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening around my phone as memories I tried to bury resurfaced.

Aria had been just a child back then, only four years old, when the attack happened. And yet, even at that age, she had been the one to make the decision that saved my life.

"Go first, Orion!" she had shouted as she pushed me toward the shimmering portal the witches had conjured.

I remember hesitating, looking back at her, my heart pounding in my chest. I was carrying two infants in my arms, their warmth pressing into me, their cries muffled by the chaos surrounding us. Irina, the same age as Aria, was holding another baby close to her chest. We were supposed to go together. All of us.

But before Aria and her twin brother, Agra, could step into the portal, a massive hunter emerged from the smoke. He grabbed Agra, his enormous hands closing around the tiny boy’s body like a vice.

And then, right before Aria’s eyes, he ended Agra’s life.

The last thing I saw before the portal closed was the sheer terror on Aria’s face.

The next moment, we stumbled out on the other side, in the middle of the woods. My uncle Zion’s wolf was the first to find us, his massive form emerging from the trees, his sharp eyes narrowing in confusion.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded as he shifted into his human form. “Why aren’t you at the cabin?”

“We were attacked,” I gasped, my arms aching from holding the infants.

Zion didn’t hesitate. He shifted back to his wolf, and with a commanding howl signaled the entire pack to turn back, to return to the cabin they had left only hours before. Me, Irina, and the babies on the backs of few wolves.

When we arrived, there was nothing left. Just destruction. Blood.

And Aria.

She was the only survivor, too shocked to move, too frozen to even cry. She sat in the middle of the ruins, cradling Agra’s lifeless body in her tiny arms.

From that moment on, she changed. The bright, curious child I knew became quiet. Withdrawn. The light in her eyes dimmed. And I—useless, oblivious, selfish—I had promised myself I would take Agra’s place in her life, the reason I chose to live with Zion’s family instead of going to my dad’s origin pack.

I had promised to protect her.

And yet, I had failed her again.

I thought about Irina. She had been sick for days after the attack, her small body consumed by fever. Our parents had been so worried about her. Everyone had. And yet, Irina had not seen even half of what Aria had gone through. She hadn’t been forced to watch her own twin die right in front of her.

And yet, somehow, Irina had always acted like she was the one who had suffered the most.

I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face.

That was why I needed Aria to come to Black Moon Pack. Why I had insisted on it.

I needed to make things right. I needed to be there for her the way I should have been all along. I would not let her be alone again.

The weight of my thoughts pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe.

I sighed heavily.

The sound must have been loud enough to wake Amanda, because she stirred beside me, stretching before letting out a small yawn.

“Is everything okay?” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

I turned to look at her.

My mate.

My damned mate.

My wolf stirred at the sight of her, the bond between us an unbreakable force pulling me toward her. But right now, all I felt was anger.

Not at her, exactly. But at the bond itself.

At fate.

At the Moon Goddess for binding me to someone I could never truly trust.

Amanda was beautiful, intelligent, strong—by all accounts, the perfect Luna. But she wasn’t what I expected. She never had been.

And I hated that.

I hated that, no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t feel for her what I was supposed to.

Instead, my mind was filled with Aria. With the pain she had endured. With the life she had ahead of her, now carrying a child she shouldn’t have had to bear alone.

My fists clenched.

“It’s none of your business,” I said, my voice cold.

Amanda blinked at me, her expression unreadable. Then, without a word, she rolled over, turning her back to me.

I knew she was hurt. But I couldn’t bring myself to care.

I didn’t want to deal with her feelings. I didn’t want to deal with any of this.

I got out of bed, running a hand through my hair. The night outside was quiet, the moon casting a pale glow over the room.

Aria must be feeling it too. The loneliness. The weight of it all.

I wouldn’t let her carry it alone.

I had failed her before.

But this time, I wouldn’t.

I watched as tears rolled down Amanda’s cheeks, and I fought the urge to wipe them away.

Moon Goddess help me—I loved Amanda. I really did. But how could she do something so cruel? Our baby was innocent. Our child, the very proof of our love, hadn’t even had the chance to live, and yet she had thrown that life away just because she still wanted to act like a teenager, to play around without responsibility.

My child.

The thought of it still burned in my chest, a wound that refused to heal.

“I already apologized. Why are you making this so difficult, Orion?” she asked, her voice breaking.

I stared at her, expressionless. How could she not understand? How could she speak as if it were something so trivial—something to be forgiven and forgotten? She had taken a life. Not just any life, but our own child’s. And yet, she expected me to let it go so easily, as if it meant nothing.

As always, when I didn’t respond, she turned her back to me and buried her face in the pillow, her quiet sobs filling the room. She always did this—crying as if I were the one who had hurt her, as if she were the victim in all of this.

But I had already made my decision, whether she liked it or not.

No matter what Amanda thought, I would bring Aria to this pack.

For reasons I couldn’t fully explain, Amanda despised Aria. I had never understood why, and I knew that telling her about my decision would only make her furious.

But I no longer cared about Amanda’s feelings.

Not after what she had done.