98 Lives For Betrayal: One Life For Regret

Chapter 2

Emma's POV

Walking away from the hall was only the beginning. Stares drowned me in my wake, whispers followed every step, and I could feel Damon’s cold gaze boring into my back.

I forced myself to look like I didn’t care, but inside, the roaring brokenness of my wolf tore through my world. A raging, distinct pain pulsed through my heart.

He was my first love, after all. My entire childhood had been reserved primarily for learning about him, every day lived in his shadow preparing for the duties I had to perform. I could recite the colors of his boxers, list all his allergies without a second thought, and predict his every mood. My heart was tearing into charades.

After ninety-eight loops of betrayal of failing to make him love me and eventually dying by his hand; my heart should have been numb. But the snap of the bond had left a raw, bleeding wound.

I dragged my feet away from the hall, telling myself I was leaving his pack and his reach forever. I just had to survive long enough to repay him for those ninety-eight times he tore through my heart without thinking twice.

My arrival at the pack house was greeted by a heavy gloom. The sad faces of the servants tore through the veils I had placed over my emotions.

"Luna... are you sure you have to do this?" Patricia, the chief maid, was the only one bold enough to step forward.

The pain in her eyes hit me hard. She hugged me tightly, her familiar scent of lavender almost breaking my resolve. I leaned into her ear and whispered, "I really wish I didn't have to, Patricia. But this is the only way."

She lingered for a moment before pulling back, her face instantly masking itself with a wall of professional calm. "I believe you have your reasons, Luna. You always do."

Her trust strengthened my spine. She clapped her hands, signaling the other servants to gather my things while I freshened up to leave.

"What a sad play," a voice hissed, laced with viper-venom. "You always did like the spotlight, Emma. Putting up a sorrowful act just to make the Alpha beg you to stay? After everything he’s gone through?"

I didn't even need to turn around to know who it was. I could feel the snitch from a mile away.

My step-sister, the biggest snake of the century, was standing behind me with a scowl.

"What a strange reaction, Ella," I said, not looking up from my bag. "I thought you’d be happy. You finally have the palace to yourself. You can even have my wardrobe, if leftovers are truly what you crave."

The words blurted out with pure scorn. Ella’s face burned bright red.

"Let’s not be petty, sister," she snapped.

"Using tricks to get a man’s attention is a new low, even for you. Plus, we both know your duty. You cannot walk away from the Lycan King. You are the…”

"That’s enough." I cut her off. I couldn't bear to hear another word of the scheme that had exhausted my soul. "Talk about petty? Manipulating your way into the pack house? Trying to seduce my husband while I was still wearing the ring? That is a low, sis."

Ella’s skin glowed with shades of suppressed rage. "If throwing accusations is your coping mechanism, then rant all you want. It doesn't change my pure intentions for this pack."

A sharp chuckle burst through my lips. I stared deep into her eyes, seeing only the slithering deception of a serpent. A bitter sensation rose in my gut.

"Sure. While you're at it, you can take care of Daggernut in my stead." I turned away, my bags firmly in my hand.

I only had three months to change my fate before the world ended, and I had already wasted too much time on this conversation.

"Emma!!!" she growled behind me.

I could practically feel the smirk she was trying to hide. She might have wanted to finish me off herself, but me leaving voluntarily was a gift she hadn't expected.

"Do you even care about your duties? About the Lycan?" she yelled as I reached the door, her voice pitched perfectly for anyone listening, her main aim in the first instance.

"Good PR, Ella," I scoffed over my shoulder.

"Again; you can have him. I don't give a damn." With those words, I slammed the door.

Outside the pack house, the cool night air hit me. I pulled my phone from my pocket, my hands trembling as I scrolled for a specific number. Lucas. My closest friend, and perhaps the only one who truly knew me. He was the son of a follower of the Holy Sect and the Alpha of the Northern Guard pack.

We had trained together, ate together, and grown a bond that I had been forced to break.

I had told him never to see me again because I was 'redistributing emotions meant for the Lycan.' I had been too scared to let anyone in.

Calling him now made me feel like a total d**k, but I had no choice. I couldn't go back to my parents; they’d just drag me back to Damon to fulfill my "Saintess" role.

The call went through on the first ring.

"I thought I told you never to call me again," a deep voice answered. My heart sank, and multiple apologies rang through my mind. I was already looking for hotel prices when he continued. "How long did you really intend to keep me waiting, Emma?"

His cheerful, teasing tone made me let out a ragged sigh of relief. "Lucas... I'm deeply..."

"Save the 'deeply sorry' for when I see you. Maybe a kiss is the only way you're getting forgiveness from me," he joked.

A genuine smile arched across my face. "So, tell me... what do you want?"

"I have a bit of an issue with the Lycan," I said, my face burning as I spoke. "It warrants me leaving the Crescent Pack. I can't go home, and you're the only one I can think of."

There was a long pause. "Sure," Lucas said, his voice dropping an octave. "But you’ll have to pay for it. Send me your address. I'm coming to pick you right up."

The call ended, and I stood there, smiling at the screen. If only we had a choice on who we were fated to love.

"You’ve barely rejected me, and you’re already talking to some other boy and blushing. Emma, what is truly the rationale behind this misconduct?"

A robotic, chilling voice sounded behind me. The heavy masculine aura was so thick I could feel it rising and falling on my skin.

Damon stood there, a fine specimen of a man looking like a dark god against the moonlight. I had been so lost in the call that I hadn't even heard him drive up. I recovered quickly, masking my shock with an icy gaze.

"I believe I made my reasons clear at the altar, Lycan Damon. You were rejected for being a chronic d**k," I said firmly.

For the second time that day, his resolve flickered. It was swift, it took my years of training to catch it, but a flash of raw emotion stood in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, then snapped it shut.

"Now, if you would let me through," I said, trying to maneuver around him, but he stepped directly into my path.

"And what makes you think," he said, his voice making the temperature drop ten degrees, "that I would let you go just like that?"