Chapter 1
851 Words
[Aveline]
It wasn't the first time I was disappointed in Lucian.
Sometimes his arrogance and ignorance really hurt deep.
But nothing could compare to the crushing disappointment and heartbreak I felt when he announced to the entire pack that he had found his fated mate, all while I stood beside him as his wife and Luna.
I never imagined I would experience such a moment.
He did not even consider giving me a fair warning; he did not even offer me the courtesy of a private conversation, a moment to brace myself against the blow he was about to deliver.
Instead, Lucian chose to disgrace me in front of the entire pack beneath the full moon—when our mating bond should have been at its strongest—forcing every werewolf present to witness my heart shatter into a thousand pieces.
As his chosen mate, I wasn’t supposed to feel the same devastating pain as a true fated bond breaking. But that didn’t mean I felt nothing. He had marked me—given me a part of himself—and now it was being ripped away without warning. The absence burned just as much. For a brief, foolish moment, I wondered if he could feel it too… the hollow, tearing loss of something that once belonged to him.
But of course, he couldn’t.
Because he never loved me the way I loved him. Never carved out a place for me in his heart—one that would ache, that would feel unbearably empty now that the mark was fading, dissolving into nothing but a scar… one that would remain etched into my soul forever.
He stood there, trying to look every bit the proud Alpha, but I saw how his golden eyes refused to meet mine.
The pack members erupted in a chaotic symphony of gasps, whispers, and shouts. A collective intake of breath rippled through the crowd gathered in the moonlit clearing. Their faces, illuminated by the flickering bonfire, were masks of shock, confusion, and, for some, a dawning sense of dread. I saw it all in their wide, unblinking eyes.
My own breath hitched, a tiny, choked sound lost in the cacophony. A coldness, sharp and piercing, spread from my chest, freezing my blood. My fingers, still intertwined with Lucian's, went numb. He didn't seem to notice. His gaze, once solely for me, was now fixed on the woman standing a few feet away.
Her name was Lyra. His brother's widow. A woman who had slunk into our pack with tears in her eyes and a tragic story on her lips three years ago.
We'd taken her in. Lucian’s brother—the late Alpha Brandon—offered her comfort. I'd seen to her every need, treating her as I would my own sister. And this was how she repaid our kindness.
Lyra stepped forward, a gentle smile on her lips. She looked innocent, her eyes wide as if in shock. Still, I noticed the triumph shining in their depths. I saw it, even if no one else did.
“Oh, Aveline… I—I had no idea…” she whispered, her voice so fragile it seemed it might break at the slightest touch. Then she looked at me, her eyes filled with something others might mistake for sympathy—but I knew better. It was pity. The kind a predator feels for its trapped prey.
“I… I never meant for this to happen,” she continued, her gaze sweeping over the stunned pack members. “After losing Brandon, I didn’t think I deserved to be happy. But the Moon Goddess… she works in mysterious ways, I suppose. Who are we to question her will, right?”
She was skilled. Too skilled.
Her words formed a carefully crafted trap, intended to ensnare and cast me as the one who would dare to oppose the Moon Goddess.
The ultimate offence.
I watched as her act began to take hold, seeing the acceptance dawn on the faces of those I once called family.
The clearing was suddenly too small, the air too thick with their judgment. I could feel their stares, a physical weight against my skin. Some were sympathetic, their expressions a mixture of pity and discomfort. Others were openly hostile, their gazes angry and accusatory, as if I were the one who had transgressed, the one who had somehow defied the natural order by daring to love a man who was supposedly destined for another.
My own wolf, a fierce and loyal creature who had stood by Lucian's side throughout these years, howled inside me. A sound of pure, unadulterated agony. She felt the severing of our bond as keenly as I did, felt the sting of betrayal as a physical wound. The urge to shift, to let her rage and grief loose upon the world, was almost overwhelming. But I swallowed it down, forcing my features into a mask of stoic calm.
I forced myself to meet Lucian's gaze, my own eyes cold and steady.
"Lucian," I said, my voice a low, rigid and solemn. "A word. Privately."
- Writer
