Estelle's POV
At dusk, I summoned the pack to the training grounds for evening combat and agility drills. A cool breeze swept across the field, lifting the silver threads of the wolf insignia so they gleamed faintly in the rising moonlight.
I paced the perimeter, assigning tasks and taking roll call as the warriors stood in disciplined formation. Then, in the distance, a familiar figure caught my eye—
Cassius crossed the field at an unhurried pace, a young woman walking at his side. Her expression still carried a trace of irritation, her delicate features drawn tight, as though he had only just finished soothing her temper.
"Don't be angry," Cassius murmured, his voice touched with indulgent teasing.
She leaned closer to him, her mood visibly easing, though a faintly arrogant smile lingered at the corner of her mouth.
I stopped.
They were close enough now that I couldn't pretend not to see them.
The air seemed to congeal, light and shadow slicing the training ground into sharp, unforgiving lines. When Cassius looked up, our gazes collided.
The underground arena felt heavier than usual. The stench of engine oil mingled with the sweat of warriors, each breath thick, metallic—like swallowing rust.
He stood there.
The Alpha of the Thunderclaw Pack.
Tall, commanding, all hard lines and restrained power. Beneath his black trench coat, the unmistakable build of an apex predator.
And a few steps away stood me.
The rightful Luna.
Yet my eyes were empty.
Not anger. Not resentment. Only the stillness that follows complete emotional cooling.
I turned to walk past them.
That was when the young she-wolf from the Northfall Pack laughed.
The sound was bright, bold—openly defiant.
She looped an arm around Cassius's neck, her fingers grazing his nape as she pressed close and whispered something into his ear. The distance between them was unmistakably intimate.
Any wolf could read it clearly: this wasn't an accident. It was a challenge.
Cassius soon led her onto the platform. Standing at its center, his gaze cold and authoritative, he oversaw her movements as a "new ally." Her motions, however, were far from standard—each one exaggerated, deliberate, provocative.
As she trained near him, her shoulder brushed his chest. When she turned, her waist swayed subtly. Every movement was calculated. Cassius's breathing deepened, his posture unconsciously adjusting to mirror hers. Though his expression remained controlled, the tension in his body betrayed him—his wolf straining beneath the surface, his attention fixed despite himself.
I stood at the edge of the arena, arms crossed, my gaze frozen. It felt as though an icicle had been driven straight through my chest. The surrounding warriors sensed the shift in the air.
"Look at our Luna," a young male wolf muttered, barely bothering to hide his mockery. "Too scared to even meet the Alpha's eyes."
"Five years of bonding," another female added softly, her lips curling with quiet satisfaction. "Still can't compete with a fresh little she-wolf."
I didn't respond.
My expression remained calm—like ice over deep water—but my heart slammed violently against my ribs. I understood perfectly. Every step she took, every calculated brush against Cassius, was a silent proclamation: she still held his attention. I had been pushed to the periphery.
Training continued. She drifted ever closer, her fingers occasionally skimming Cassius's shoulder, even grazing his wrist. He shifted, but offered no reprimand.
My breathing quickened. Pressure built in my chest, rising like a tide against the walls of restraint.
"She's practically daring Luna to react," someone whispered nearby.
"Think Luna might tear her apart?" another murmured.
I bit down hard, fists clenched, feet rooted in place. This wasn't private space—it was the Alpha's arena, a stage for dominance and spectacle. Any outburst would be weakness. Any concession, defeat.
The woman leaned into Cassius's shoulder again, whispering softly. He hesitated, then exhaled and lifted a hand, smoothing her slightly disheveled hair. The gesture was natural, intimate—stopping just short of crossing a line.
Pain flared behind my eyes.
Something inside my chest broke—silently.
I didn't question it.
I didn't rage.
I didn't even look back.
The murmurs continued, sharp and merciless.
"Luna's a fool. Five years at his side, and she still loses."
"He doesn't even look at her anymore."
"If she weren't so cold-blooded, that girl would already be dead."
I clenched my jaw, fury and frost twisting together in my chest. Then I turned toward the exit, my steps steady, precise.
I didn't look back.
I left the arena, got into the car, shut the door, and started the engine. As I drove away, I ignored the rearview mirror entirely—as if that place, that Alpha, no longer belonged to me.
The pack's night was unnervingly silent.
Back in my room, I removed my coat and stepped into the dressing area. A crystal chandelier illuminated a glass display case filled with jewelry that symbolized the Luna's authority—each piece once sworn to "eternity."
I reached up to unfasten the necklace at my throat.
A familiar, overwhelming presence surged up behind me.
Before I could turn, my back struck something solid and unyielding.
Cassius braced both hands against the glass, caging me between his body and the display. He leaned close, his breath brushing my cheek, his wolfish aura flooding my senses.
"Angry?" he asked quietly, his voice carefully restrained.
I didn't look at him.
I placed the necklace back in its case, my fingers steady, my expression unreadable.
"In my current state," I said flatly, "I might kill someone. You'd be wise to watch your back."
Silence pressed down between us.
Cassius's gaze darkened. He straightened, studying my profile as if recalculating. When he spoke again, his tone was controlled—almost clinical.
"The Northfall Pack wants to collaborate on developing the Northern Mines. I've been negotiating with their heir."
He paused.
"That girl is his sister."
I finally turned to face him.
My eyes were cold, unnervingly clear.
"Huh?" I scoffed. "I must have missed the day our Alpha decided to grow the pack not through strength or leadership, but by prostituting himself through special services to women."