Chapter 2 – The Summit
1346 Words
Two Years Later
Aveline's POV
The city below pulses with light. But I don’t see it.
Not really.
I stand on the edge of the balcony, wind tugging at my coat like a memory that refuses to let go. The night air bites at my skin, sharp and clean. Neon signs flicker across the towering skyline, casting reflections in glass like distant stars.
And far beneath, wolves walk in human skin—pretending to be civilized.
Shadowfang territory.
Damon's empire.
I exhale slowly, closing my eyes against the ache I thought I buried. Two years. It’s been two years since he shattered more than a bond—he shattered a version of me I didn’t know I could lose.
But I didn’t stay shattered.
I found the pieces. I sharpened them. And I became someone new.
The girl he rejected is gone.
I buried her in the ashes of what he left behind.
That night, when he humiliated me in front of the entire Ironfang pack, I ran. I ran through the dark until my legs collapsed beneath me. I didn’t care where I ended up—only that it was far enough.
Far from the whispers.
Far from the pity.
Far from him.
But I didn’t die in the dark.
I transformed in it.
Rock bottom doesn’t just break you. It dares you to rise. And I did—on bloodied knees and a burning will. I trained. I studied. I unearthed power that had slumbered in my veins for generations.
I learned the truth.
I wasn’t just a pawn.
Not just an unwanted omega.
I’m Luna-born.
The bloodline they thought was extinct.
And now I’m back.
Not for love.
Not for closure.
I came for what’s mine.
My phone buzzes. I pull it from my coat pocket. It's my assistant.
Rhea: He’s attending the Summit tomorrow. Midnight. North Wing.
Perfect.
I tuck the phone away and brush my fingers against the silver pendant at my throat. It hums softly—alive with ancient power, woven with purpose.
Let Damon ,look me in the eyes now.
Let him see what he threw away.
Because this time, I’m not the one who walks away broken.
He is.
———
The North Wing is colder than I remember.
All glass, steel, and calculated silence—the kind that comes with power. Even footsteps feel like trespass here.
But I walk anyway.
Guards nod stiffly as I pass. Some look twice. No one stops me.
The pendant at my neck glows faintly under the lights—Luna sigils etched into the metal, forgotten by most, feared by the wise. It’s not just a symbol. It’s a shield. A key. A warning.
I belong here now.
The Summit chamber rises ahead, vast and elegant—arched ceilings, marble floors, chandeliers suspended like stars caught mid-fall. Wolves cluster in small, sharp-eyed groups, their whispers thick with politics and power.
It's so late but they're still together, proving that the situation is critical and perhaps out of control.
But my eyes find only one man.
Damon.
He stands by the dais, surrounded by the elite. Dressed in a tailored black suit, every inch the Alpha—jaw sharp, presence sharper. He looks untouched by time. Unbothered.
But I have changed.
In every way that matters.
My wolf stirs—but not wildly, not like before.
She is older now. Measured. Quiet strength where once there was chaos.
She feels him instantly—of course she does—but she doesn’t rage or claw or beg for closeness.
She simply watches.
Like me.
We are no longer at his mercy.
I step forward. Each click of my heels echoes through the marble like a warning shot. Heads turn.
Including his.
His gaze collides with mine—and for a moment, time fractures.
He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. Just stares. Like he’s seeing a ghost.
Or maybe a reckoning.
My wolf watches too, calm yet deeply present—like a flame held in palm, ready to burn if needed, but never losing control. Even now, even here, she stays with me. Matured.
I stop just a few feet away. Not close enough for warmth. Not distant enough to ignore.
Deliberate. Controlled.
“My Alpha Vexley,” I say coolly, lips curving into a faint smile. “It’s been a while.”
His face stays unreadable, but something shifts behind his eyes.
Confusion. Recognition. Regret.
He buries it beneath the surface.
“I thought you were lost forever,” he says finally, voice like iron dragged across velvet. “For good.”
“I was.” I tilt my head. “But you know omegas. We’re obedient. Predictable.”
I let the words linger, sweet and sharp.
“But sometimes, we come back where we’re not wanted… or waited.”
He studies me.
“You look... different.”
“I am different.”
For a heartbeat, the chamber falls still. Conversations around us stall. Tension thickens in the air like a coming storm.
Damon may still be Alpha.
But I am no longer the girl who once stood trembling in his shadow.
“I didn’t really expect to see you again,” he says.
“That’s because you never looked past what you were told,” I murmur. “You never did.”
His jaw tightens.
Good.
Let it.
Let him feel even a fraction of what I carried.
My wolf stirs again—quiet but firm. Not mourning. Observing. Waiting. She feels no ache now. Just readiness. As if she, too, is deciding whether he’s worth our time.
“Can we speak in private?” he asks, voice low, rough around the edges. There’s hesitation in it. Like he’s unsure I’ll grant him the chance, even though I was the one who asked for it.
I tilt my head, a slow, dangerous smile forming. “That depends.” My tone is light, but it slices like glass. “If what you have to say is worth hearing, why would I refuse?”
His eyes search mine, but to no avail, shadows flickering in their depths. “You won’t know if it’s worth it… until you listen.”
And then he does something I never thought I’d see.
He stands—right here, in front of Alphas and council members, in front of his world.
Putting his pride on the line. His image. Maybe even his honor.
For what?
Pity? Closure?
My attention?
Lucky for him… it works.
I draw in a breath, slow and measured, then push back from the table and follow him—leaving behind a room full of power-hungry wolves and curious eyes.
We slip into a chamber where the walls don't listen and the silence is thick enough to choke on.
The door clicks shut.
And before I can speak, his voice cuts through the air.
“I didn’t have a choice that night,” he says. His words are rough, like they’ve been buried too long. “The Council forced my hand. It was politics—”
I cut him off.
Soft. Sharp. Final.
“And what you said in front of a hundred wolves?”
I take a step forward, eyes locked on his.
“Was that politics too?”
His silence answers for him.
I close the distance until the air between us hums with tension, theS ghost of a bond neither of us can quite sever.
“You didn’t even know me,” I whisper. “But you broke something in me that night.”
I lean in, my lips brushing the edge of his ear.
“And it didn’t kill me, Damon.”
My voice turns to ice.
“It forged me. And today I know only too well how much you need me, but I will not help you.”
Then I pull back.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. He’s frozen in place, staring at a version of me he never imagined.
And I turn.
No hesitation.
No backward glance.
This time, I’m the one who leaves and it's just the beginning.
- Writer
