Freya: The return of the rejected Luna

Chaptertwo

Freya's POV

I woke up to find myself nestled in his arms, feeling a mix of sorrow and a pang of betrayal.

The warmth of his body, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, it all felt so familiar and comforting.

But it was a comfort I couldn't afford to indulge in anymore. He belonged to someone else and, honestly, he had never truly belonged to me.

I no longer felt secure like I used to, all the plans I had for us as a family were dashed all thanks to his new plans.

“I can't believe Rowan would do something like this to us. We have been such wonderful souls to him. "I made sure to stop you from doing anything rash,” Leah, my wolf, said, and I whimpered in pain.

"It wasn't enough to keep him, we weren't enough as we are not his mates. He has his eyes only for his, and we can't stop a bond created by the moon goddess. ”

"We can. I can get rid of her. We have to do something. I can't live without Rowan's wolf and I know you are more in love with Rowan. " Please let me out,” Leah urged, and I shook my head.

I won't be known as someone who fought for a man who didn't love me enough to keep me. I had already lost him to her and I couldn't change my fate.

But I was sure I wouldn't love any other man the way I had loved him.

I shook off the lingering warmth of his embrace, sitting up abruptly. The movement woke him. He opened his eyes as it shone red, watching as I retreated to the bathroom.

A flicker of irritation crossed his face, and I could sense his confusion and slight anger. Why was I pulling away from him?

In our shared bathroom, I leaned against the sink, staring blankly at my reflection.

Memories of the past year flooded my mind, and I began to wander back to my childhood. I remembered the countless afternoons I spent playing in our small pack, surrounded by rolling hills and green pastures. It was a simple yet peaceful life. We didn't have much, but we were very content.

I must have been only eight or nine years old at the time, but I still recall the day he stumbled into our little pack, bruised and battered. He had been kidn*pped, held captive for weeks, and had only just managed to escape. My grandmother, with her kind heart and generous spirit, took him in, nursing him back to health over the course of a week.

As I grew older, I came to realize just how much his family helped us. They supported us financially, covering my grandmother's medical bills and my own tuition fees. I had always been grateful for their kindness, but I had also developed feelings for him that went far beyond gratitude.

To him, however, I was just a little sister, someone he dutifully protected and cared for. I had long since accepted that our relationship would never be anything more than a sibling bond. Not a mate bond. Or so I had thought.

When my grandmother fell ill, her worries about my future heightened . She knew that I would be alone in the world, with no one to care for me. And so, in a desperate bid to secure my future, she begged him to marry me.

I remember the day he agreed, the mix of emotions that swirled inside me. I was relieved, grateful, and yet, at the same time, I was also heartbroken. Because I knew that our marriage would be one of convenience, and not love.

He made his terms clear to me from the outset. He already had someone he loved, someone he couldn't be with just yet.

But if she returned, he would end our marriage without hesitation. I hid my true feelings, agreeing to his terms, insisting that I felt nothing romantic for him just so I could be close to him. Then maybe…just maybe I could be his, and he would be mine.

In the last year of our marriage, he'd treated me so well, our days filled with tenderness and joy. I'd almost let myself believe he'd fallen for me, that our marriage was more than just a convenience.

But it was all a lie. Our marriage was simply a means to an end, nothing more than a written pact.

And now that end has been reached. He'd made it clear yesterday. He wanted a breakage of the bond we had forged and there was nothing I could do about it.

I splashed cold water on my face, forcing myself to compose. I couldn't let him see me cry, see me weak. I took a deep breath, steadying myself before walking back out into the bedroom.

He was sitting on the bed, watching me with an intensity that made my skin prickle. I avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the floor.

"Let's have breakfast." I said, my voice neutral even though Leah was raging inside of me.

He nodded, stood up and followed me to the kitchen. We ate in silence. The only sound was the clinking of utensils against plates which echoed through the cold room. I couldn't bear to look at him, couldn't bear to meet his eyes.

He finally broke the silence before leaving for work.

"If Grandmother asks, tell her it was your decision for us to get a divorce," he said.

I nodded quietly, my heart aching. I didn't have the strength to argue or ask why he wanted me to lie. I had no fighting chance, so there was no point making a fuss.

Trying to tell myself that it was all a dream and I would soon wake up, but it wasn't. This is my reality now, and I had to find a way to move on. No more fantasy of living happily ever after with our unborn child.

When he left, I wandered around the house, feeling like a ghost haunting my own life. Every room held a memory, every piece of furniture a reminder of our time together. I felt like I was drowning in nostalgia, suffocating under the weight of what could never be again.