The Loathed Luna: A Sister's Substitute

CHAPTER 7: BITTER

CYRA

I exploded the moment Alexander stepped out of sight, Greyson's words about how he had to be with his Luna w***e echoing in my ears. I didn't even wait until Alexander was out of earshot. I didn't care.

"You f****d her?" Greyson didn't even try to deny it, and as my voice sliced through the corridor. "You—" My hand moved instinctively, rage coursing through my limbs so fast that I couldn't control it.

“How could you?" The words ripped out of my chest raw as my palm rushed toward his face, but Greyson caught my wrist in midair.

"I had no choice!" he growled back, his grip ironclad. "This was our first night. What did you expect, Cyra? That I let my brother f**k her on our wedding night? What did you want Alexander to think?"

I screamed. "I do not care!" And his expression hardened before he grabbed me and opened the next door we came across, shoving me inside. I stumbled but caught myself, fury blazing through the shock.

"Let me go!" I screamed, pounding on his chest as he shut the door. "You promised me," I yelled, attempting to wiggle free, disgusted by his touch. "You promised not to betray our bond!"

He didn't say anything, but cupped my face, his eyes dark with guilt, and I shoved him back, bile rising in my throat. "Do not touch me!"

I couldn't bear the thought of where his hands had been. "I don't care if you let Alexander f**k her first," I exclaimed. "I don't care what he thinks! You were not supposed to touch that filthy omega!" I growled, and he growled back, insisting I look at him.

I tried to turn my head away, but he wouldn't let go, and my body shook with rage, jealousy so intense it hurt to breathe. All I wanted, no, needed, was to walk out of this room and into that hall, confront that b***h, and tear her limb from limb with my bare hands.

"I love you," Greyson exclaimed desperately. "You are my mate. You are the only woman I will ever love and make love to. I did what I had to do," he explained. "Once I finish my duty, I'll never touch that omega again."

My blood pressure skyrocketed. "What do you mean once you finish?" I jerked back. "Are you planning to f**k her again?"

"I have to."

"Why?" I screamed. "You spent your first night. Why are you doing it again?" But rather than responding, he said, "Just trust me, trust us, and trust our love."

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it.

"That's what you said the night you marked me," I snapped. "Just before you rejected me."

The words tasted bitter on my tongue, and I wanted to say I was finished and was leaving. But how could I ever be? What would I become if I did? Just a glorified warrior? I was more than just that; I was a Luna, and the Thornfield throne was mine.

I'd be damned if I accepted defeat after everything we'd done, the blood we spilled, and the curses we unleashed upon ourselves. There was also something else, my heart. I loved him and couldn't survive without him.

So I swallowed hard and looked him dead in the eyes.

"I'm giving you one week," I said coldly. "You have one week to DO YOUR DUTY. After that, I want that w***e out of your bed, or I'll burn everything down, Greyson Thornfield."

I pushed past him before he could speak, yanked the door open, and stormed away. The door slammed so hard that the walls shook, but I didn't look back or move toward the hall. I couldn't return to that party, and I didn't give a damn about my position. I couldn't face that b***h without gouging her eyes out.

****

GREYSON

The door slammed behind Cyra, and the sound echoed through the walls as I stood there, staring at nothing, before my legs gave out and I slumped back against the wall.

I hated myself for causing her pain, but I couldn't deny that I had slept with that thing out there. I also couldn't tell her I was finished when I wasn't. But I could have told her the truth, told her why I wasn't finished.

When I spoke with Alexander weeks ago, I was so disgusted by the omega that I hadn't considered the details. I hadn't considered the first night, and how inappropriate it would be for my brother to take her virginity instead of me.

But as I stood with Alexander a few moments ago, discussing the plan, I realized that I had to be the one to take her virginity.

My brother had not questioned it when I told him he would f**k her on our wedding night because he was nervous, or because he assumed I had already taken her before him.

But it would have raised questions if he had taken her and found she had still been untouched.

My wolf shifted uncomfortably at the thought, disgust coursing through him just as darkly as he spoke. “If she's untouched," it snarled. "Omegas are filth. They are tricksters; expect anything from them."

This was true. For all I knew, a hundred men could have come before me, and that was what my bastard father had bound me to, all because of a promise he made to his favorite pet.

I threw up in my mouth at the thought before the question of why I hadn't been frank with Cyra came rushing back.

I had f****d that thing in the arse, which was why I had to retake her virginity, and Cyra would have understood if I had explained it in that manner. But I had not.

Instead, I made it sound as if I wanted the omega–as if I had enjoyed it. It was as if I couldn't bring myself to say otherwise because I was protecting her dignity or something, dignity she was already born without.

I let the woman I loved suffer, fearing I was betraying our bond. My breath came out rough as I dragged a hand down my face, suddenly thirsty. I needed a drink, but more importantly, I needed this f*****g celebration, this farce I gave no s**t about to end.

My hand pushed the door open before my mind could give the command, and I straightened and took long strides back down the hall. The music was louder now, pounding against my skull as if to drown out my thoughts.

But it didn't work because as soon as I walked inside, Alphas and pack members who hadn't yet congratulated me rushed forward, their voices blending together as they offered their fake praises.

I nodded as required and shook hands, but I felt nothing. I spotted a server right away and motioned him over. He didn't ask; he handed me a glass, which I threw back without tasting, then grabbed another, and another.

Lifting my head, my gaze fell on my pathetic wife. And all of the fire I had just forced under rose again. Before I knew it, I was taking long strides toward her. But a voice called out behind me, stopping me cold. I turned to find my father, whose face lit up with pride, as if he hadn't forced me to do this.

"My son," he began. "I'm really proud of you. Thank you for helping me keep my word." Something cold coiled deep inside my chest as he spoke, but I fixed my expression, straightened my shoulders, and nodded. "Of course."

The words tasted bitter, but I had come too far to give up now. I only had to pretend long enough to secure my crown. After that, he could f**k his precious omega himself to keep his damned promise. I listened to him for a while before interrupting. "If you'll excuse me," I said, stepping back, "I think my bride needs rescuing."

I gestured toward the omega, who was now surrounded by pack members showering her with praise and respect as if she were a novelty.

“Of course!" Father laughed, clearly pleased, and I took long strides towards her. Her big eyes locked on mine the moment she noticed me, and I didn't miss the way her pulse raced to her throat. I stopped in front of her, eyes still holding hers.

“Come," I said, then turned and walked away without waiting for her.

I would f**k her right now and be done with it.