Chapter 2
1265 Words
Damien strode toward her, his sharp obsidian eyes sweeping over her excessively pale face. A faint frown creased his brow. “Where do you feel unwell?”
Serena followed closely, reaching out to take Bella’s cold hand with practiced concern. “Sister Bella, your hands are freezing. I hope you’re okay…Don’t mistake what you just saw. It’s my return celebration today. I haven’t been back for four years, and the elders insisted on throwing a gathering. After the moon-cakes, I felt unwell, so Damien accompanied me here…”
Bella immediately yanked her hand away. The movement was so abrupt that Serena’s fingers closed on empty air. Damien’s frown deepened in clear disapproval.
Bella noticed, and bitterness flooded her heart. She and Serena shared the same birthday under the lunar calendar. It wasn’t that Damien had forgotten or failed to prepare a gift. He simply had someone far more important to celebrate with.
Swallowing her vulnerability, Bella forced a brittle smile. She tiptoed slightly, reached up, and removed the glowing festival lights from Damien’s dark hair.
“It doesn’t suit you.” With a flick of her wrist, she tossed them into a nearby waste bin.
Serena’s gentle smile froze completely.
“Elias is sick and in the pediatric healing ward. Here’s his brain scan and lunar aura report.” Bella thrust the documents into Damien’s hands, then turned and walked away, her pace quickening despite the pain in her injured foot.
As she left the main hall, she couldn’t help glancing back once.
Damien was already escorting Serena deeper into the healing center. From beginning to end, he never looked back at her.
Tears welled in Bella’s eyes. She turned abruptly and collided with someone. Pain shot through her as she fell to the ground.
“How do young wolves walk these days!” a middle-aged woman’s familiar, sharp voice scolded above her. “Never mind, Serena is waiting for us.”
Bella looked up through the haze of pain and caught only the anxious backs of a well-dressed middle-aged couple hurrying away—Serena’s parents.
Memories crashed over her like a rogue wave. She and Serena had been switched at birth between allied packs. At six, Bella lost the loving parents who had raised her and was thrust into an abusive household with a violent biological father and selfish mother. At eight, she nearly died from the abuse. Her older brother had carried her, bloodied and broken, to the gates of the Blackwood Pack.
Damien—then a young Alpha heir—had braved a blizzard to take her in, begging the elders for mercy on account of old alliances.
Sixteen years ago, Serena’s true identity surfaced, and Bella lost her fragile sense of home. Now Serena had reappeared, and Bella felt the same fate closing in. But she was too exhausted to fight it anymore.
It was late summer, the night air cool with the promise of autumn. Bella walked the pack roads with her arms wrapped around herself, limping slightly. Groups of young dancers passed by, laughing under the moonlight, heading to training grounds.
Bella stopped and stared blankly. She was six years younger than Damien. To be worthy of him, she had pushed herself relentlessly—skipping grades in pack academies and earning early admission to the elite Lunar Dance Conservatory at fifteen. After graduating at eighteen, her mentors urged her to study abroad with world-renowned masters, but Bella had refused.
For those four years, she had done only one thing: wait for Alpha Damien.
She had guarded their hollow mating like a sacred vow, year after year.
Now, at twenty-nine, she felt like a shadow compared to the vibrant wolves her age. Last month, a senior contact had told her that the legendary dance master of the Celestial Troupe was seeking new apprentices—a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Bella had hesitated then.
Tonight, she had her answer.
Beep-beep—
A taxi pulled up. The driver leaned out. “Going somewhere, miss?”
Bella stepped off the curb. “I don’t have cash. Is this acceptable?” She removed one of her precious starlight earrings—master-crafted lunar silver with diamonds that caught the moon like captured stars—and handed it over. It had been a gift from Damien years ago.
The driver’s eyes widened at the gem. “Get in.”
Bella gave the address to a discreet off-pack safe house. As the car moved, the driver examined the earring.
“These look expensive. How much?”
“Seven figures,” Bella murmured, leaning her head against the window, eyes closed.
Ten years ago, as a girl who loved pretty things, she had been terrified of ear piercings after childhood trauma. Damien had tricked her with a “toy” ear gun during a festival visit, then commissioned the custom pair from a master artisan.
She had worn them every day since, never removing them. Until tonight. The earrings hadn’t been flesh and bone after all. Cutting them off brought no blood, only empty freedom.
Gossip news played on the dashboard screen. Reporters swarmed Serena at an earlier event. “Yes, there is a man I love deeply. We were separated four years ago by a cruel misunderstanding, but I believe true mates always find their way…”
Serena smiled up at the man beside her. The reporter thrust the microphone toward Damien. “Alpha Blackwood, is Miss Whitewood referring to you?”
Damien gestured for his guards, protectively shielding Serena as they departed. Bella looked away with a self-deprecating smile. They were finally together. How wonderful.
A black Bentley—Damien’s—soon appeared in the rearview mirror, its arrogant pack insignia unmistakable.
The taxi driver tensed. “Miss… that car behind us looks like it’s chasing us.”
Bella’s stomach dropped. In seconds, the Bentley drifted to a stop ahead, forcing the taxi to brake hard. A man stepped out of the vehicle and came to her window.
Knock knock knock.
The sound echoed like a death knell in Bella’s soul. She gripped the seatbelt, knuckles white, refusing to turn.
The door was unlocked. Damien bent down, his powerful frame filling the space. With one swift motion, he unbuckled her and pulled her out, carrying her like she weighed nothing.
“What are you doing? Let me go!” Bella struggled.
“Behave,” Damien growled, his large hand gripping her thigh possessively, the heat burning through her thin dress. She stilled instantly.
“What happened to your foot?” he demanded, voice low and dangerous.
Bella kicked off her shoe, revealing the bloodied bandage.
She remained silent. Damien’s face darkened like a storm. He shoved her into the back seat of the Bentley and climbed in after her.
The door slammed. The confined space filled with his overwhelming Alpha aura—pine, moonlight, and fury.
Bella shifted, and Damien’s hand brushed her hair aside, his eyes locking onto her bare earlobe. His expression turned razor-sharp.
“Where are the earrings?” He pinched her soft earlobe, kneading it firmly.
“Ah… it’s gone…” Bella gasped in pain.
Damien gripped her chin, forcing her to face him. Through the window, she saw the taxi speed away.
His voice was thick with suppressed rage. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”
Bella’s eyes burned with unshed tears, but her voice was steady. “If it’s gone, it’s gone. Damien Blackwood, I’m not joking, and I’m not doing this out of spite. Let’s get a divorce.”
She no longer wanted his gifts. She no longer wanted him.
- Writer
