Chapter 22
1671 Words
Gwen
The world narrowed into a single, suffocating point.
Justin on one knee. The ring. The weight of every gaze in the ballroom, hundreds of masked wolves watching—waiting. A sea of glittering masks and sharp smiles. Predators in silk.
And me.
Frozen.
My lips wouldn’t move. My lungs wouldn’t fill. The mask I wore felt like it was choking me, like I could barely remember where Gwen ended and the role I’d been playing began.
My fingers curled into the fabric of my gown.
This couldn’t be happening.
Then I saw them—Terrance and Karl stepping through the crowd. Karl’s broad frame cut through the room like a blade, his expression unreadable beneath his ornate black mask, but his presence spoke louder than words.
Terrance gave me a subtle nod. A cue. A command.
Karl didn’t have to speak. I felt the weight of his will settle over me like a stone collar. Be a good Beta. The same command that had been threaded into every word, every lesson, every glance since I was a girl.
This wasn’t a proposal.
This was a coronation.
A forced ascension into a life I didn’t want, tethered to a wolf who didn’t love me—not really. Not for who I was. I wasn’t Gwen to Justin. I was a prize. A means to power. An alliance sealed with a smile.
Akira, I begged. Please. I need you. Help me.
Silence.
She didn’t answer.
I could feel her, faint and far, like a whisper lost on the wind. A dying echo. My other half was still too weak to stand with me. And without her, I was powerless.
I searched the crowd.
I saw Jordan—her hand covering her mouth, eyes wide and horrified. I saw a man I didn't recognize at her side, holding her back with a tense arm. She knew. She knew what this was.
But she couldn’t stop it.
None of them could.
“Gwen,” Justin said again, louder now, bolder, his voice rich with performative affection. “Will you marry me?”
The Alpha command twisted in my chest like a knife. I could feel it, pulsing beneath my skin, a leash disguised as love. It wasn’t even spoken aloud—but it had been branded into my very soul.
And I was so tired of fighting alone.
I nodded.
“Yes,” I said, the word tasting like ashes on my tongue.
The room erupted into cheers. Laughter. Applause.
Flutes of champagne were lifted. Music swelled.
The show had gone on.
And I had played my part.
Cain
I couldn’t move.
I stood just beyond the crowd, breathless, masked, and hollow.
And I felt her break.
It was like a scream with no sound—an agonizing pull through the bond, a ripple of despair so sharp it nearly brought me to my knees. It wasn’t just sorrow. It was resignation. The death of hope.
And then I heard it—Yes.
My hands clenched into fists, nails digging into my palms.
My vision tunneled.
She had said yes.
To him.
And in that moment, the truth slammed into me like a freight train. The subtle obedience in her voice the day we met. Her withdrawal. Her desperation. The fear and guilt that clung to her like a second skin.
The Alpha order.
She’d been under one the whole time.
That’s what she begged me to save her from.
I had stood by, watching. Waiting. Letting her believe I didn’t want her.
And now she was bound—promised—to a monster. The same monster who had just smiled at the crowd as if he’d earned her.
Rage unfurled in my chest like fire. Burning through my ribs, up into my throat. I wanted to rip off this mask, tear through the crowd, and drag her into my arms where she belonged.
But I knew things had to come first. Duty had to come first.
The mission. The secrecy. The lives on the line.
And still, none of it mattered compared to the look on her face when she said yes.
Like a bird flying into a closed window.
Like dying in slow motion.
Justin stood triumphant, his hand gripping hers. Karl’s smile carved through the crowd like a king surveying his kingdom.
I couldn’t breathe.
Not from fury. Not from heartbreak.
But from shame.
Because she had begged me to help her.
And I had waited too long.
Justin
Victory had never tasted so sweet.
As the crowd erupted in cheers, I slipped the ring onto Gwen’s trembling finger. Her hand was cold in mine, her smile barely a ghost of what it should’ve been—but none of that mattered.
The room believed the lie.
The pack believed the lie.
And soon enough, so would she.
I stood and pulled her into my arms again, ignoring the stony stiffness in her posture. The orchestra resumed, striking up another slow, romantic number. The perfect encore to our very public engagement.
She didn’t fight me. Not physically. Not here.
I guided her effortlessly back into the dance. My hand found the small of her back, pressing her closer. She glared at me from behind her mask, only her eyes betraying how she really felt.
But I’d already broken her once. And I would again.
“You really are something,” I murmured near her ear, smirking as she kept her eyes fixed just over my shoulder. “All these alphas watching, and still, it’s me you said yes to.”
Her jaw tightened. “I said yes because I didn’t have a choice.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” I chuckled darkly, spinning her with a flourish that made the crowd clap again. “That’s not what it looked like.”
“I’ll never love you,” she said, quieter this time. A blade wrapped in velvet.
I leaned in until our foreheads nearly touched. “That’s the best part,” I whispered. “You don’t have to.”
Her body stiffened, just like it had the night I first had her. Back then, she thought giving herself would stop the pressure, the whispers, the expectations.
She thought one night would silence it all.
It had only made her mine.
“You were so good for me that night,” I continued, voice low and honeyed with cruelty. “So obedient. So soft. Do you remember how you looked, Gwen? When I slid inside you?”
Her lips parted in horror.
“I own this now,” I said, dragging my fingers subtly down the curve of her hip. “Every inch of it. You gave it to me.”
“You disgust me,” she breathed, voice shaking.
“Maybe,” I smiled, and bent my head to kiss her.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tender.
It was a claim.
A warning.
I kissed her hard, until her palms flattened against my chest—not to pull me closer, but to push me away. She didn’t dare cause a scene. Not here. Not now.
So I kissed her like I’d already won.
Cain
The roar of applause was deafening.
But it was nothing compared to the silence inside me.
Gwen stood center stage beneath a golden chandelier, a mask of regal calm over her face as Justin slipped the ring onto her finger. Her eyes were empty. Her smile was a lie.
I felt her scream through the bond.
Muted. Choked. But there.
And I couldn’t move.
I was paralyzed. Trapped in this gilded hell while the woman who was mine was claimed by another. Every instinct in me howled. Every muscle tensed to run, to leap, to tear Justin’s throat out with my teeth.
But I stayed.
Watched.
Coward.
She let him pull her back into a dance, and I felt the tremor in her spine as if it were my own. Her fingers barely clung to his arm, and still the crowd saw what they wanted—a beautiful Beta saying yes to her chosen mate.
Only she hadn’t chosen.
He had forced her.
My wolf growled low in my chest. Achilles, usually calm even in conflict, was trembling with rage.
“He kissed her.”
I saw it too. The bastard kissed her like she was already his wife. Like he owned her.
And Gwen—she didn’t kiss back. She endured it. Her hands pushed against his chest. But she didn’t scream. She didn’t pull away.
Because she couldn’t.
I clenched my fists so hard I felt my claws pierce skin.
Then Achilles spoke. Not just in thought—but in thunder.
“If you don’t stop this… if you let him keep her… I swear to the Moon Goddess, I will never speak to you again.”
His voice cracked through me like lightning.
“You will lose me, Cain. The way she’s lost Akira.”
I froze. The weight of it hit me harder than the sight of Justin’s mouth on Gwen’s. Harder than her hollow eyes. Harder than the memory of her voice when she told me she didn’t want to see me again.
Losing Gwen was already unbearable.
But losing Achilles?
Losing my other half—the wolf who had stood beside me through war, through pain, through blood?
That would be a death I wouldn’t recover from.
“You say you love her,” Achilles snarled. “Then prove it. Or stay a coward. But if you stay silent again, I’m gone.”
I staggered back a step into the crowd, breath burning in my lungs.
Justin spun her across the floor, triumphant. The pack cheered. Gwen’s mask never cracked.
But I felt her grief.
And I felt Achilles… slipping.
Not yet. Please, not yet.
I locked eyes with Gwen as she passed. Just for a second.
Her gaze didn’t falter. But it didn’t shine either.
I had let her fall.
Now I had to decide if I would let her drown.
- Writer
