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"Save Serena first!" My fiancé, Cole, shouted over the burning car. "Cole, please!" I begged, grabbing his sleeve. "I'm trapped!" My adopted sister Serena let out a fragile gasp. "Cole... my heart..." He stared at my bleeding hand. Then, one by one, he peeled my fingers off his shirt. "Serena's heart is weak, Nadia," he said coldly. "You're strong. You can wait." I watched my husband carry her away, leaving me to the roaring flames. Then, everything went black. *** I woke up to a circle of doctors standing over me. Nobody was smiling. "Ms. Calloway." The one closest to me didn't sugarcoat it. "Your lungs sustained severe burn damage. You have a month. Maybe less." I let that land. Then I looked around the room. Empty. Not a single familiar face. "Does my family know I'm awake?" I asked. The doctor hesitated just long enough to tell me everything. "They're... in another patient's room." Silence swallowed the space between us. I nodded once. "Keep this between us." After they filed out, I pulled out my phone and called the funeral home. Scheduled everything for thirty days out. My voice didn't shake. My hands didn't either. I'd barely set the phone down when the door swung open. Cole Hartwell walked in. Same perfect jaw. Same careful eyes scanning me like he was checking off a box. "You're up," he said. "Good. How are you feeling?" I didn't answer that. "Nadia." He exhaled. "The wedding date is close. You know the Hartwell Group succession is tied to the heir being married." He clasped his hands in front of him. Like he was about to deliver a business proposal. "But given your current condition... you're not fit to be my wife." My chest tightened. Not from shock. Just from hearing him say it out loud, so cleanly, like it cost him nothing. "For the sake of both families," he continued, "we've decided Serena will marry me instead." "We?" My voice came out flat. "Your parents agreed. Derek too." I turned my head toward the doorway. They were already there. Mom, Dad, my brother Derek. Standing just past the threshold, watching through the gap like they were afraid to come in all the way. I turned back to Cole. "The only reason I'm in this bed," I started, "is because of—" His hand closed over mine. Firm. Practiced. "Don't do this, Nadia." His voice dropped. "Serena has a heart condition. You know that. Last time she rode a roller coaster she ended up in the ER." He paused. "It was a car accident. If I hadn't pulled her out, she would've died. You got burned, but you survived." I survived. Right. Thirty days, give or take. I pulled my hand back and stared at the ceiling. "Fine," I said. "Do whatever you want." Cole let out a slow breath, relief loosening his shoulders. He turned and waved the others in. Mom crossed the room toward Dad, wearing a little smile I hadn't seen her aim at me in years. "See? I told you she'd come around. She's not as difficult as she used to be." Derek laughed from the doorway. "Relax. Serena's easygoing. She won't even mind if Nadia ends up as Cole's mistress on the side." Cole's jaw went tight. "Enough. Once Nadia recovers, things go back to how they were." Their voices kept going. I stopped listening. I pulled the blanket up over my shoulders and closed my eyes. When you have thirty days left, a lot of things stop mattering. A fiance. A family. A future that was never really yours to begin with. If Serena Calloway wanted them, she could have all of it. I couldn't take any of it with me anyway. Over the next few days, I organized everything. Every account. Every asset. I put Serena's name on all of it. Ten million dollars. The money I'd made selling my paintings in secret, one canvas at a time, over years. Dead weight now. Paper with numbers on it. When Cole came to pick me up from Crestview Medical Center, Serena was already in the passenger seat. I handed her the transfer documents through the window before I even got in the car. She unfolded them. Went still. "Ten million dollars?" Her eyes went huge. "Nadia, how did you even—" She looked up. "And you're just... giving it to me?" "Consider it a wedding gift," I said. Cole's grip went white-knuckle on the steering wheel. "That's not—" "That's amazing!" Serena clutched the papers to her chest and beamed. "Thank you, Nadia, seriously." She held those documents the entire drive, smoothing them against her lap like they might disappear. Cole didn't say another word. The car stopped. I looked out the window. Not the estate. A bridal boutique. Of course. Today was the day they were picking out Serena's custom bridal gown. Serena hopped out, then turned back with a bright smile. "It won't take long, I promise." "Take all the time you need," I said. I wheeled myself through the front door ahead of them. Inside, while Serena was behind the fitting room curtain, Cole appeared at my side. "Are you doing this on purpose?" he asked, voice low. "To make me feel guilty? I've told you, Nadia. Once you're better, the title of Mrs. Hartwell—" "You're reading into it." I cut him off. "I'm just tired." He opened his mouth. "Cole." Serena's voice floated out from behind the curtain, carrying just enough of a pout. "I've tried on so many and none of them are right." I waved the manager over and told him quietly to bring out the gown from storage. My gown. The one I'd spent a month designing. Every bead placed by hand. Every seam chosen like it mattered, because back then, it had. The manager carried it out. Serena went completely still when she saw it. Then her whole face opened up. "I want that one," she breathed. "It's yours," I said. Cole stepped forward. "No." His voice came out harder than I expected. "You spent a month on that. Every detail—" "She likes it," I said simply. Serena pressed a hand to her heart and arranged her face into something soft and pained. "I couldn't. It's your dress, Nadia. I'm only marrying Cole because you can't right now. It wouldn't feel right." I reached out and patted her hand. "It fits you better than it ever would've fit me," I said. "Wear it." She kept the performance going for another few seconds. Then she smiled. "I'll have it dry-cleaned and back to you the day after the wedding," she promised. "Next Friday." I glanced at the calendar on the wall. Next Friday. The last day of my life. I almost laughed. What a perfect coincidence. I just had to hold on until then. Long enough to watch everything I'd set in motion play out. Long enough to see the curtain drop. I used to call Serena out every time she pulled something like this. Used to fight for people to see what she really was. Nobody ever believed me. They'd look at her soft eyes and her careful words, and then they'd look at me, and decide I was jealous. Bitter. Difficult. So I stopped fighting. Because soon, I wouldn't have to. Soon, they would all see it for themselves. And in the quiet hours, when the truth finally settled in, they would replay every moment. Every choice they made. Every time they picked her over me. And I would already be gone. That was the plan. ### Chapter 2 Nadia's POV The second we got home, Serena dropped the act. She shoved my bedroom door open so hard it bounced off the wall. Then she kicked my wheelchair straight out from under me. I hit the floor hard. Pain shot up through both knees like fire. I pressed my back against the wall and pushed myself upright, one slow inch at a time. Serena looked down at me. "What are you plotting now?" "Nothing." My voice came out steady. "I'm dying. What would be the point?" She studied me for a long moment, head tilted, like she was trying to find the trap. "I don't buy it," she said finally. "Prove it. Give me the paintings." That was always what this came back to. Growing up, I painted. It was the one thing that was mine. Serena watched, copied, traced over my work with her own name. But talent isn't something you can steal stroke by stroke, and hers never came. So she stopped pretending to be inspired and started just taking. She took so many that I put the brushes down for years. Let my family assume I was done. They did. "Well?" Serena crossed her arms. "Can't let go?" "Take them," I said. "All of them." The disbelief on her face was almost worth the floor. She didn't move until I laid them out in front of her. Then she laughed. Not a pretty laugh. The kind that twists a face wrong. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and leaned down close. "You idiot. Without these, even if you somehow survived, you'd have nothing. You know that, right?" Her grip tightened. "Did you think things were just going to go back to normal?" A smile curled across her mouth. "I am going to be Cole's wife. I worked for that. I am not giving it up." She paused. "I'll make sure I'm pregnant before the wedding night is over. Every last bit of hope you're holding onto? Gone." From downstairs, Diane's voice floated up. "Girls, dinner!" Serena let go of my hair like it was nothing. Smoothed her expression back into something soft and lovely. Walked out like none of it had happened. At the table, she pulled one of my canvases from behind her chair and set it against the wall. My parents' forks stopped moving. My father Russell's mouth fell open. "Serena, you painted this?" Diane pressed both hands over her heart. "When did you get so talented?" Derek leaned in, eyes already calculating. "That piece would go for serious money." That night, Derek posted it on an online auction platform. By morning, a collector had paid a number that made Derek bounce on his heels. By the next day, Serena's name was everywhere. Major online forums. Art blogs. Trending feeds. I watched them celebrate from the edge of the room. I felt nothing. I had maybe a few days left before my heart stopped for good. I wondered if their smiles would still look like that when I was gone. I had a feeling they wouldn't. Serena's rise hit fast and loud. Reporters camped outside the estate for days, all of them desperate to interview the prodigy artist who'd appeared out of nowhere. Diane cried on camera. Actually cried. "Thank God it wasn't Serena who got hurt in that accident," she told a reporter, one hand pressed to her chest. "We would've lost a true genius." Then, right there in front of everyone, she unclasped Grandma's necklace from around her own neck and fastened it around Serena's. That necklace was supposed to be mine. I looked away. A reporter called out, asking about the inspiration behind the painting. Serena tilted her head like she was thinking. A small, pretty blush. "My fiance," she said softly. The crowd lit up. "Who's your fiance? Is he in the art world too?" Russell didn't even let her answer. He stepped forward and grabbed the microphone. "Her fiance," he announced, his voice full of pride I had never once heard him use for me, "is the heir to Hartwell Group. Cole Hartwell." The interview exploded online within the hour. High-society bride. Prodigy artist. The kind of headline that writes itself. Grant Hartwell showed up in person to confirm it. Confirmed Serena as the Hartwell family's future daughter-in-law, right there on the record. Serena found me afterward. She looked at me the way you look at something you've already won. "Nadia. You really went too far this time, didn't you? There's no road back for you now. You know that." I smiled. "I'm not looking for one. I hope you're happy. I mean that." "You—" Her hand came up. Then she saw Cole in the doorway. Her whole body shifted. "Cole, you're here." She moved to take his arm. He stepped back, gentle but deliberate, and reached up to ruffle her hair. "Give us a minute," he said quietly. "I need to talk to Nadia." Serena left. Slowly. She glanced back at me once from the door. I smiled at her. Cole crossed the room and took my hand. His grip was tight. "Don't read into any of this wrong. Dad pushed for it. He thinks Serena's visibility is good for the company's image. That's all this is." I pulled my hand back. "You don't owe me an explanation," I said. "The engagement is real. You didn't do anything wrong." I paused. "And I've known for a while anyway." His brow pulled together. "Known what?" "The jasmine perfume. It never fully washes out of your shirts." I kept my voice even. "The lipstick I found in your car twice. The way your eyes track her whenever she walks into a room." I looked at him. "I've known all of it." "Stop." The word came out sharp. His face went tight with something between anger and shame. He left without another word, footsteps hard on the floor. I turned back to the canvas. Serena had been threatening me since her first painting sold. New work every three days, or she'd cut off my medication and make sure I never got better. What she didn't know was that I'd stopped needing the medication. I agreed anyway. I only had two paintings left to finish before I died. Two more pieces. That was all. They wouldn't carry her forever. I was genuinely curious what would happen to her name once I wasn't around to fill it anymore. Derek walked in on me painting one afternoon. He stood in the doorway and laughed. "Seriously?" He shook his head. "You paint for ten years, drop it the second Serena gets famous, and now you're back at it? What, trying to copy her now?" I didn't answer. "Give it up," he said. "You will never catch up to her. Not in this lifetime." He left. I set the brush down and stared at the wall. I thought about the day our family brought Serena home from the group home. Derek had stood in front of me, all twelve years old and serious, and told her: "If you ever bully my sister, I'll send you right back." He'd meant it then. I believed him then. But Serena figured out early that a heart condition could do more for her than talent ever could. She'd come in last at every competition, then grab her chest and sink to the floor. Every time she woke up in a hospital bed, she'd look around at our family with red-rimmed eyes and say, her voice barely a whisper: "I don't want to die. I don't want to leave you all." It worked every single time. Our family folded around her like she was the center of something fragile. And I got pushed to the edges until I was barely visible. I sat in the art studio for a long time after Derek left. Then I picked up my phone. "Do you have results from the accident investigation?" The P.I. went quiet for a second. When he spoke, his voice came out heavy and careful. "Ms. Calloway, the crash was not an accident." My stomach dropped. "The rear door latch had been tampered with beforehand. It was jammed completely. We pulled the traffic footage." He paused. "The vehicle that hit you adjusted its angle on purpose. The impact was aimed directly at your door." My knuckles went white around the phone. "Once the car flipped, the driver could get out fast. The passenger seat was pinned, but the pressure on that side was significantly lower than yours. Whoever was sitting there was easy to pull out." Another pause. "Ms. Calloway, this was planned. Do you have someone in mind?" I didn't answer. But I remembered. The end of the birthday party. The parking lot. Serena grabbing my arm before we got in, complaining about carsickness, insisting she needed the front seat. That was why. That was why she needed the front. I told the P.I. to compile everything and send it to my email. Then I set the phone down on the windowsill. My hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against my thighs until they stopped. ### Chapter 3 Nadia's POV The days before the wedding blurred together. The Calloways got busy. The ceremony. Serena's upcoming award gala. Their smiles got bigger with every passing day. Mine got smaller. By the night before the wedding, I couldn't even get food down. I sat at the table and watched everyone else eat. Diane set down her fork and looked at me. "Nadia, you should stay home tomorrow. You can barely move. Once things get hectic, no one's going to have time to watch over you." Russell nodded along. "I found a specialist. Flew him in from overseas. You can see him tomorrow instead." I opened my mouth. Serena slammed her palm on the table. "Mom. Dad." Her voice went sharp. "Stop it. Nadia is my sister." She looked at me, eyes soft and perfect. "You have to be there. I need you there." I smiled at her. "Of course I'm going," I said. "My little sister's getting married. Nothing could keep me away." Diane shot me a look that could've curdled milk. I ignored it. "I'll stay in the corner the whole time," I added. "I won't be in anyone's way." Derek snorted from across the table. "You'd better. Try anything stupid and I will not be nice about it." I didn't answer him. The next morning, I was downstairs before anyone else. Serena came down the stairs and found me already waiting. Her mouth curved. "You're so eager. Anyone would think you were the one getting married." "I had to start early," I said. "Takes a while to wrap all these bandages." Something flickered in her eyes. Satisfaction, bright and ugly. She came the rest of the way down and clipped a name tag to my chest like she was tagging luggage. When the housekeeper wheeled me into the reception hall, every head turned. Whispers started immediately. "Serena has an older sister? I've never heard her mother mention her." "Look at the gap between them. That explains it." A few guests who knew about me and Cole just stared with that particular kind of pity that made my skin crawl. I wheeled myself into the corner I'd promised to occupy and stayed there. Cole found me first. He walked over with his wine glass, swirling it slow. "You insisted on coming. So why do you look like you can't handle it?" I let out a short laugh. Didn't bother explaining. I picked up my champagne and tapped it against his glass. "Happy wedding, Cole." His jaw went tight. He knocked my drink over. The glass hit the floor and shattered. Heads turned. "How long are you going to keep this up?" His chest heaved. "I've told you—once things settle, I'll marry you. Why won't you just believe me?" He actually looked wounded. Like he was the one who'd been wronged. "If you keep acting like this," he said, voice dropping, "I might just make this real." Then Serena appeared at his elbow. Her hand wrapped around his arm. "Darling." Her voice was velvet. "The ceremony's starting." He turned away from me without another word. I sat in my corner and watched the ceremony begin. Cole stood at the front and looked at Serena like she hung the sky. "Serena," he said. "I will love you forever." She kissed him. "Me too." From the front row, Diane was crying. Actually sobbing, shoulders shaking, hands pressed to her face. Derek put his arm around her. His eyes went red. "Mom, what are you talking about? Serena is your daughter. She's all of our pride." Pride. I laughed once, soft and quiet, and turned my wheelchair toward the door. "Nadia." Serena's voice, bright and carrying, cut across the entire hall. Every face in the room swung toward me. I stopped. Pressed the brake. Turned around slow. She stood at the front with Cole's arm around her, both of them looking like something cut out of a magazine. She smiled at me. "Aren't you going to say something?" The room went still. I looked at them. "I hope you two stay happy," I said. "Forever." The silence that followed had weight to it. I don't know if it was the stiffness in my voice or the way I looked—pale and wrapped in bandages and sitting in a chair—but the room stayed quiet a beat too long. It didn't go over well. After the guests cleared out, Mom and Dad cornered me near the exit. "Was that the best you could do?" Diane's voice had an edge like broken glass. "You embarrassed us in front of everyone. What else do you even do besides make us look bad?" Derek stepped in front of me. He shoved my shoulder. I went sideways and hit the floor. My palms scraped the tile. Pain shot up through both wrists. Derek froze. He reached out instinctively, hand half-extended, then pulled it back. He couldn't do it. Instead, he just righted my wheelchair and stepped away. Nobody else moved. I got myself up. One inch at a time, I dragged myself back into that chair. My arms shook the whole way. There was nothing to say. In their eyes I had never been enough. My congratulations weren't enough. My face wasn't right. My existence wasn't right. I was less than Serena in every way that had ever mattered to them. I pushed myself toward the exit. Near the door, Cole was standing with his wine glass. Our eyes met. He looked at me for exactly one second. Then he turned and walked away. That was the last thing I needed from him. That one second, then nothing. Whatever had been holding me together quietly snapped. I moved through the streets slow, like something that had already stopped. When I tilted my head back, the sky above the city was full of drones, their lights weaving and blinking, slowly forming a name. Serena. I almost laughed out loud. That idea had been mine. I'd sketched it out on a napkin two years ago, talking to Cole about what I wanted our wedding to look like. I'd imagined my own name written up there. I never pictured hers. My phone buzzed. I answered it without thinking. Serena's voice came through, bright and pleased. "Couldn't hold it together? Already ran off?" I didn't say anything. "Don't worry," she said. "The wedding was just the opening act. There's still the award gala." A pause, savoring it. "Nadia Calloway, you will never stand in the same room as Cole again. Not for the rest of your life." The phone slipped from my fingers. It hit the pavement and I didn't have the strength to lean down for it. Serena's voice kept going from down there, tinny and far away. "Are you there? Why aren't you saying anything? Answer me or I'm cutting off your doctor. Everyone listens to me now. You understand that? Everyone." A beat of silence. She hung up. The street was empty. The drones kept writing her name in the sky over and over. Then the door beside me opened. A man in a black suit crouched down and helped me up. His movements were careful and quiet. "Ms. Calloway?" he said. "I'm Jay Mercer. You scheduled the final arrangements service." I nodded. I pointed to the cardboard box sitting against the wall nearby. My arm felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. "When I'm gone," I said, "play everything in that box. At the funeral." My arm dropped back to my side. I heard him exhale beside me. Slow and quiet, like someone who understood. "Ms. Calloway." His voice was low. "You've carried a lot in this life." He paused. "Leave the rest to me."

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Prologue Broken promises ache as badly as hunger. Humiliation stings like getting lemon juice in a paper cut. This goes beyond that. This betrayal goes beyond the lies and expectations of what we are and what we've been raised to believe. It goes against everything that makes us what we are. No matter our rank. I watch from the terrace of the apartment I got for my mate and me when he returned from his alpha training last year. I had been so excited to see him after we spent our senior year apart. I gave up going to my dream school to stay here with him. Santiago Romano held me in his arms, sold me pretty lies, and loved me the way he had promised before leaving. A part of me knew that I would be discarded after the full moon fell on my sixteenth birthday, and I didn't shift. I spent days avoiding him, trying to deny that someone from a Beta bloodline as strong as mine would be reduced to nothing but a lowly omega. Everything had been perfect before that. We had met the day we both started at Artume Academy—two years after one of the cruellest rogue attacks in werewolf history. There were six hundred and eighty-seven casualties that night. I barely survived. I shouldn't have, but I did. I've never wished to have died there more than I wish it now. My goddess-given mate has chosen his Luna. It's being televised for the world to see that I wasn't anywhere near enough to stand beside him. His parents hand-picked his Luna to carry his name, his legacy, and his heirs. Poppy Turner is wearing my dream dress with a huge smile plastered on her face. Her arm is looped through my mate's, and the two of them look like the perfect match as they walk into the moon goddess temple for their official mating ceremony. I turn the TV off and look down at my phone to see the message he sent me just before arriving at the temple. Three little words that don't mean shit to me anymore. This is for the pack, he said. You'll be better protected. You can now study to be a surgeon without the responsibilities of a Luna. I'll never leave you. You're the one I love—my true mate. Lies. The sick part is that there's a part of me that would accept this. I'd be his mistress, watching him build that life that should be ours with her. There's a darker side that looks back to the night of the attack. The night I saved her from the rogues, while my family was fighting. While they were dying. I should have left her there to be torn apart. I want to leave here. Run away and never look back. I have the means for it. All I'd have to do is call my grandmother to tell her I've had enough. She'd come for me in an instant. I know she would. But it wouldn't solve anything, and I'd be leaving everything I've worked so hard to obtain behind. There are three months left until the end of the semester. I'd lose all my credits, and my GPA would drop if I left now. It's all I have left. This career is the only thing that is going to keep me going for a while because this wound, like the loss of my family, it's going to take some time to heal. I spend the rest of my night reviewing my notes for my upcoming exam. It's almost eight when my phone rings. I reach for it to see my Grandmother's name and a picture of the two of us at my graduation last year. "Hey, GG," I answer. "Don't hey, GG, me young lady," she says in her thick Swedish accent. "What is the meaning of this, Sophia?" "I don't know," I answer honestly. "Did he reject you properly?" she demands. "No, he doesn't want to. He said that she'd be his Luna only in name." "I want you to come live with me, Sophia. You need not be where you are not welcome. Why haven't you called to let me know what's happening? I would have sent for you immediately," her tone is urgent. "Because you were on business for the King. I didn't want to bother you with something so trivial," I shut my laptop and close my notebook. "Trivial? My love, this is not something to be taken lightly. You are in pain. It will get worse once you reject him. It'll feel like a part of your soul is being torn away." "Please, don't make me feel worse than I already do," I sigh. "I can't just gather my things to leave. I have school and work. I'm not just his discarded mate. I'm more than just a floormat. This is why I didn't call you: I knew you'd want to come here immediately, and I don't want to lose myself over this. Leaving is a last resort." "Leaving?" I look up to see Santiago standing in the doorway of my home office, still dressed in his ceremonial suit. "GG, I have to go." I look away. "I love you." "Sophia-" I hang up before she can say anything else. "What do you mean you're leaving as a last resort?" he storms into the room and pulls my chair away from the desk to make me look up at him. I don't meet his gaze. "I told you that she means nothing to me. You're my mate. You're not going anywhere." I don't answer him. I push him away when her scent hits me. It's all over him. "I don't want you here right now. You're tainting my space with her scent. I can barely stand to look at you," I say calmly. "You're being so fucking dramatic, right now. I didn't have a choice, Soph. I'm not doing this to hurt you. I came home to you. You're my mate. You're the one I'm in love with. This is for our pack. You're turning your back on me to hurt me. You're acting as if I were the one at fault here," he growls. I cry out when he grabs my arm and spins me around to face him. "You're not leaving me. There is not a single fucking place in this world you can go where I won't find you. "You run, and you're only going to be making things worse for me," he grips both my arms with too much force. "You're hurting me," I try to pull away. He shoves me hard. Stumble back, hitting my head on the doorknob. The sting blinds me for a moment, but I don't have enough time to process it. "Look what you made me do," he says, dropping to the floor beside me. His hand presses on the spot I just banged against the doorknob. "Soph, I didn't mean to. I panicked." "Get away from me," I manage to cry out. His hand tightens around my throat. "You're not leaving me," he pulls me into him. His eyes are bright red, and his canines are out. "Say it. Say you're going to stay, Sophia." He leans into me, and for a second, my heart races when his teeth graze the curve where my neck and shoulder meet. The place he's told me wants to mark me. But he pulls away to cup my face to make sure I'm looking back at him. I've been in love with this boy since the first time I set eyes on him when I was fourteen years old. I thought I knew him. All of him. But the person in front of me is not the man I thought he was becoming. I don't recognise him at all. All I can do is stare back at him, fear and disbelief in my eyes. "Say it!" he shouts at the top of his lungs, making me jump. "I'm going to stay," I choke out. The lie tastes rancid on my tongue. "You can't leave," his wolf retreats, and I stare at his baby blue eyes as they fill with tears. "You can't leave me. I need you. I need you, Sophia. And you need me. Only I can protect you. You're mine." 1 Everyone is staring at me when I walk into my office after my classes are done. I can feel their gazes on my skin as I hurry over to the elevator. When I get to the maternity floor, I rush into the locker room to get ready for my shift. "Soph?" I look back at my best friend, Poppy's half sister. She's the last person I want to see right now, but there's not much I can do about it since we have the same shift. "Hey, Lieza," I greet her. The pitiful expression on her face hurts. "Don't." "This is awkward," she says, scratching the back of her ear nervously. "But the alpha sent roses." "What?" I ask, confused. I locked myself in the home office and slept on my giant bean bag last night. When I woke up, he was gone. He slept in the apartment. The bed had been undone, and his suit was on the floor, where he took it off, expecting me to clean it up. I would have left it there if I didn't hate having a messy room. I threw it away on my way out of the building. I finish putting my things away and follow her out. On the reception desk are five massive bouquets of roses and sunflowers. The nurses are all cooing over them. "Here, they came with this," Lieza says, holding up a hot-pink envelope. He wrote my name on it by hand. "These are so beautiful," Layla, one of the ultrasound techs, smiles at me. "You guys can have them," I say, going over to my computer. "I don't care for flowers." "They were a gift from your mate," Kennedy reminds me. "I don't have a mate," I say. Putting it out there hits me hard like getting mauled by a rogue after having watched it tear my brother to pieces seconds before. They don't say anything, but they understand, and the flowers disappear. I go about my day as usual, then head home after my shift. His car is here when I arrive. I don't park; I head back out right away. I need some time away from him—time to piece together my thoughts. Artume General Hospital is located near the main strip, where tourists frequently gather. The restaurants and stores are all open late. I have dinner at my favorite Korean BBQ spot and keep to myself, not wanting to draw any attention. As I have my dinner, I can't help but think about the night I found out I wasn't worthy of having a wolf. It was a night a lot like this one. My grandmother was sitting behind me in our backyard as the sun came up. It marked the night of the full moon in my birth month, and nothing happened. I didn't feel any different, and I didn't hear the sound of my wolf's spirit. "It could be late because of the trauma from the attack," she said, crouching down in front of me. I couldn't bring myself to look up at her. "Go back to school on Monday, and we'll meet again next month. I'll book an appointment for you later today. Go to bed." There's never been an omega in my bloodline. Ever. It was why the Helvigs were accepted into the city ranking system. My father had made a name for himself before he met my mother, who is from here. My grandmother encouraged him to relocate so he would have better opportunities. My body was shaking. All I could think was, what am I going to say to Santiago? How will his family react to me being what I am? They don't have to say it for me to know what was happening. I knew what was happening. I have been deemed an unworthy vessel. My phone pinged as if my thoughts summoned him. His name and our picture pop up on the screen with the voice memo. "I'm looking forward to seeing you on Monday. I love you." There is a tiny chance that my wolf is late because of the surgeries I had after the attack. I was twelve. That was almost seven years ago. I couldn't bring myself to open the following message, let alone reply. I dry my hair and curl up under the blankets. Sleep didn't come, but after a few hours, my grandmother came in to tell me that I have an appointment to get checked out. I got dressed, and we headed over to the clinic. I'm sure she's paid the doctor and the staff to keep all of this quiet. "Hey, Sophie," Dr. Valkrie greeted me the way she used to when I first met her. We all thought I was going to die then, and being an omega in my family has felt just like that. "Hey," I greeted her quietly. "Okay," she took a deep breath and smiled. She glanced over at my Grandmother, and it's all it took for her to leave the two of us alone. "There are a lot of reasons why your wolf is a little late. Have you been stressed lately? Anything you want to tell me before I start probing?" "A little," I nodded. "I found my mate, or rather, he found me." "Congratulations," she smiled. "Why would this be stressful for you? This is a good thing." "He's the next alpha of the city," I whisper. She tensed up, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. I had been thinking about it all night. Alpha and Luna Romano are not going to like that. Luna Romano is Alpha Romano's chosen mate. No one really knows what happened to their true mates or if they ever had one at all. Dr. Valkrie leans forward to hug me. She sniffs me and then sits back. "You've mated with him," she states knowingly. I nod. "We can start there, but I have to be honest with you. If being with your mate doesn't bring her out, the possibility that you are an omega is high. It can be due to all the damage that was done in the attack-" "That's not what I want to hear," I cried. "I know. I know, Soph. The only way that this can move forward is probably if he marks you, but even then, the chances of the wolf you turn into being a higher rank are low. You have to drop combat training. "You have to tell him because if you lie, it's going to look very bad on you. I'm going to take some blood samples to ensure everything is okay. But I don't want you to get your hopes up. Okay?" I couldn't answer her. I swallow the knot in my throat and let her take the blood sample. I spent the rest of my weekend alone in my room. "Come down," my grandmother ordered on Sunday afternoon. She has her luggage ready, which means she'll be going back to Blackstone—lycan domain. "Thank you for coming, Grandma," I said. She let out a heavy sigh and tilted my head up. "You survived one of the most gruesome attacks in our history, little one. You gave up a part of you to ensure that justice was served to avenge your family. Don't let anyone take that from you. Do you understand?" "Yes," I choked out, but I didn't believe it. "Come," she opened the door that led into the garage. I walk in with her. Inside is a cobalt blue Volkswagen Beetle convertible. "You mother had this arranged from the moment she found out she was having a girl. "Helvig women are rare. Unfortunately, it has always been the men who have taken the glory in our bloodline. So, we were very excited when you were born. Finally, a little girl we can all dote on. Take care of it. Yes?" "Thank you," I nodded and wrapped my arms around her. Grandma has always had an icy aura about her. I was under the impression that she hated my mother and me. Perhaps it's not hate, but the lingering coldness of having to serve under the Lycan King. Grandma Zaraphine is about four or five inches shorter than I am. Her hair is black, highlighted by the grays and whites growing out. She doesn't look old, but her eyes give away her age. She's always been very elegant and refined. I wanted to be just like her. It was why I gave up on the medical program and joined the combat team at the start of my training. I started to cry again, and for the first time, she tightened her hold on me. I don't know how long we stayed this way, but when she finally pulled away, she wiped away my tears. She stared at me for a bit before letting me go. "Things will change for you, Little one. Drastically. If you need me to pick you up, call me. Do not hesitate. Do you understand? You are still a Helvig, and I will not allow you to be disrespected in any way. If I am unable to come personally, I will send someone on my behalf. Okay?" "Okay," I nodded. "I must be going. Try to keep this to yourself for as long as you can." "I can't," I inform her. "Why not?" "Santiago is my mate," I confessed. She inhaled deeply and pulled me into her again. "You call me immediately if you need me, Sophia. Do you understand?" "Yes," "I must go. I promised my general I'd be back before sundown. My heart stays here with you, Granddaughter. As always." "Be safe," I nod. I unlocked the car and climbed inside. It smelled brand new. Like that night, I sit here not knowing what to do. I can feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, but I don't have the energy to reach for it. I shut my eyes, needing a moment of peace. Anything to get my head out of the thoughts attacking the very essence of my soul. I am unworthy. There was no wolf spirit for me and no mate. 2 The smell of freshly made food greets me when I arrive at my apartment. I walk in to find Luna Romano in my kitchen and Santiago setting up the table. I look between the two of them, knowing that they're going to ambush me over what happened last night. I didn't think that my mate was a little bitch boy that needed his mommy to fix his life for him, but then again, he ended up marrying the woman she picked for him. "Sophia," she beams with way too much enthusiasm for my liking. "It's a little late for you to be out and about on your own, isn't it?" I stare at her, not knowing how to answer that. How dare she come into my home and say anything against me? She has no right, not even as the Luna of the City. I hold my tongue this once because, despite the shit show she's turned my life into, I once respected this woman almost the same way I respected my own mother. I kick my shoes off, and I head to my room. "Dinner will be ready in a bit," Santiago blocks me. "I already had dinner, thank you," I say, rolling my eyes and trying to get past him. He grips my arm in the same spot he had last night, pressing his fingers into the bruises I already have. I try to pull my arm out of his grip, but he only tightens it. I look up at him, wishing I had the strength to hurt him back with my entire existence. "Get cleaned up for dinner, Baby. My mom made us dinner. Take this off," he says sternly, motioning my scrubs. The two of us stare at one another for a long time before he releases me. I glance back at his mother to see her smiling proudly at his actions. She doesn't meet my gaze, and I don't argue. I rush into my bathroom as my heart beats faster than it ever has. I reach for my phone immediately and turn on the water. "I've been so worried about you," my Grandmother answers right away. "GG, Luna Romano is here," I try my best not to cry. "I don't feel safe." "All right," she says calmly. "Just do as you're told, I'm on my way." "Hurry," I try to calm myself. "Sophie," I almost jump out of my skin when Santiago bangs on the door. "I can at least have a moment to shower, can't I?" I call back and stuff my phone between the towels beside me. The door swings open, and I back away as he storms towards me. He's pissed. His eyes are dark, and the veins on his forehead are visible. "What did you just say to me?" he demands. "I just got off work. I want to take a shower. You don't need to be here for that," I hold his gaze. I know that he'll get suspicious if I become complacent. I've never been one to keep my thoughts to myself. His expression softens, and he reaches for a strand of my hair. "Shit, I'm sorry," he says, placing his hands on my waist and lifting me to sit on the sink. This isn't the first time he's done this, but it is the first time I feel repulsed by it. It's killing me, but I'm repulsed by the man I thought was everything to me. He reaches for the hem of my scrubs and pulls the top over my head. I'm trapped, and he doesn't see that this is wrong or that I don't want him touching me. I stay still, not knowing what to do. "I'm sorry," he leans into me. He buries his hand in my hair to pull my head back enough, so I'm looking up at him. "I keep fucking this up," He brushes his lips to mine, weaponizing our bond against me. My body reacts to his because of it. Tears slip from my eyes as he kisses me. He catches one on his tongue and lifts me enough to reach between us to get my scrubs off. "Please," I cry, not wanting to do this. "I don't-" "It's okay," he wraps my legs around his waist and covers my mouth to keep me from making a sound. "Stop," I mumble into his hand, trying to push him off me. His lips crash against mine, and he reaches between us. My omega traits are alive and well. He takes my reaction to our bond as an opening. Panic starts to set in because no matter what I do or say, he's not going to stop. It's in this moment that I realize too late that maybe I was never a person to him. Just an object no better than the shiny car his parents got him for his birthday this year. "It's only you, Soph," he mumbles into my mouth. "You're the only one I want." My mind blanks when he enters me. My body screams in protest, but he doesn't stop, and he's taking my struggling as fuel to get rougher. He presses his hand over my mouth again to keep him silent. "You're mine, Sophia," he repeats over and over until he's finished. I sit here for a while once he's done processing what just happened. When he knocks again, it's gently this time as if everything that's happened is now behind us. I didn't answer, but I ended up taking a quick shower mindlessly. He's not going to leave me alone. This woman is only going to make this a whole lot harder. She's standing in front of the dining table, her hands folded neatly over her belly. The smile on her face is one I'm all too familiar with. Before now, I used to take solace in it. Luna Romano has been like a mother to me since my mother passed. She would tell anyone who would listen that I, Sophia Helvig, was her only son's fated mate. Things changed when Santiago told them that I was an omega. They sent him away, and I was no longer invited to Sunday dinners in the main house. I was no longer a part of their family. If I'm such a disgrace on her family's bloodline, then why the hell does she want me here? I could just leave when the semester is over. I wouldn't make a fuss, and I wouldn't ask for a single thing in return. No one in their right mind would allow this humiliation, even if I am simply a lowly omega. "Why don't you come take a seat, Sophia?" She takes a step to her right and pulls out the chair to Santiago's left. She looks down at the chair and then at me. The action is almost threatening. "I think we need to have a serious talk." 3 Santiago is sitting there without meeting my gaze. I cautiously go around the table to sit where Luna Romano wants me to sit. I stay still as she reaches over me for the bread knife. I sit back as she cuts the freshly made loaf of bread in front of me. She places a slice on my plate and then another on his. I watch her hands as she moves to put other things on our plates, never setting the knife down. She walks around the table and sets it down beside her plate. "I understand that you are having some trouble with the new arrangement," she says as she takes a fork off the table. "I don't have to remind you that you are Santiago's mate." "No, you don't, and I don't think it's any of your business," I answer honestly—the two of us jump when Santiago slams his hand on the table. "Don't talk to my mother like that, Sophia," he growls. "It's alright, son," she says and continues to eat as if nothing were out of place. "Sophia, you shouldn't be making this harder than it has to be. You are Santiago's mate, and that comes with certain responsibilities." "No, it doesn't. You legally found a replacement for these so-called responsibilities-" "Of course, I did," she stops me. "Do you think you, an omega. A wolfless girl who is practically mortal could ever hold a candle to what a beta-ranked female can?" "I can do everything the beta-ranked female you chose and better. I have proven that over and over. In training and my studies. She wouldn't be able to hold the highest credentials in medicine, the way I can run circles around her studies in pack economics. The comparison isn't fair if you're basing this on genetics." "Is that what this is?" she laughs humorlessly. "You're jealous of Poppy?" "Poppy has nothing I need to be jealous about," I sneer. "Except you do. She is the new Luna of the City, whether you like it or not," she says flatly. "Do you know how many Lunas die a year because other alphas or rogues target them. You know, the very same rogues who took your family from us. You will never be in any danger with Luna Romano taking the lead." I stare at her, letting what she just said sink in. She just called Poppy Luna Romano. My hand twitches over the fork beside my plate. It would be so easy for me to get over this table with it to show her exactly what this little omega can do. I may be the lowest rank of my kind, but I was raised like one of them. My grandmother would rather kill me than let me walk around unable to protect myself. As one of the Lycan King's most trusted Major Generals, my training started long before theirs did. I was raised to be a soldier, and it was only by fate that I am now a healer. "Mom," Santiago says gently. "I think you should leave." "Excuse me?" she laughs, looking over at him. "I think you should go so that I can talk to Sophia alone," he adds. "You brought me here," she reminds him. "I know, and she knows how serious this is now. Get out," he growls. The two of them face off for a moment before she nods and stands up to leave. Neither of us moves as she gathers her belongings. She kisses the side of his head. He knows exactly what I would do to his mother, even though she outranks me. I'd spend the rest of my life in a prison cell here, and I wouldn't regret it. "I suggest you understand your position and soon, Sophia," she says, pausing at the end of the table. "We want to move forward doing things pleasantly. You can be a part of this family the easy way, or you can be a part of this family the hard way. The choice is up to you, but leaving is not an option." "Go," Santiago growls at her again. I sit here waiting for the weight of her words to break the silence between us. He expects me to stay here while he parades his chosen around for all to see simply because I'm an omega. Tears fill my eyes as the realization hits me like a slap across the face. They're all going to make my life a living hell, and he expects me to take it. "You swore you'd never let anything hurt me when I told you I didn't shift," I whisper. "I would never let anything hurt you, Sophia. You know that I would do anything for you." "Except this, right? You'd never stand up to your mother for us even if it killed me," I stand up. "She made us dinner, Sophia. The least you can do is try it," he says calmly. I suck in the mucus in my nose from crying and hack it up into my mouth before spitting it on the food she made for us. He stares at me in disbelief. I've never done anything so ill-mannered before. My grandmother would have never let me hear the end of it, but I think this is an exception she might be willing to overlook. "That's what I think about your mother's food, Santiago." I kiss him on the opposite side of his head. "It's going to take some time for us to get used to this. Sophie," he continues. "I'd reject you now if I thought you'd accept it. But I'm looking forward to doing everything in my power to make you do it. By the time this is over, you're going to hate me with every ounce of your soul the way I do you now." He reacts this time. His hand lashes out and grabs my wrist. He spins me around, pulling me into him hard. My chest smacks against his, hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs. "You hate me?" he laughs and pushes against me until my back hits the wall. My body is trembling, and I can't bring myself to look up at him because if he looks into my eyes, he'll know I'm lying. I want to hate him. I should. But our world is on fire. The flames are closing in around us, with nowhere to run. He did this. He did this to us, and instead of letting me go so that he may do his so-called duty, he wants me to stick around to watch him destroy everything we could have built together. "Reject me. Please," I beg him. "I don't want this. I don't want you like this." "Not a chance, Sophia. You said you'd help me make sure the City prospers," he says, burying his face in the crook of my neck. "This is it, Baby. As soon as we have an heir, it's over. It'll be just you and me. You'll bear my mark, and we can put it all behind us." 4 It's been a long time since I've been plagued with nightmares of the attack. I lay here beside my so-called mate, reliving the moment in silence. It's the final quarter. There are forty seconds on the board and six yards to a touchdown. My arms are tightly around the iron bars as I watch my oldest brother, Gavin, toss the ball to our brother Oliver. The two of them position themselves as the next play begins. All I can hear is the roar of my blood racing as I watch the final moments of the game. My brothers have been working so hard to get here, and winning this game will make them champions of this year's Packlands Championship league. "Let's go, Helvig!" someone shouts, and the crowd starts chanting our last name. The timer restarts, and the team delays the throw. The other teams are unaware of what's happening. Their eyes are locked on Oliver. Ten seconds. Oliver pushes off the ground, and the other team moves with him. Gavin rushes forward, pushing off the ground with all his might. The crowd erupts with joy as he jumps over the other quarterback, clearing the last yards. The stadium goes crazy. I scream, gripping the metal divider, and jump down along with a whole lot of other people. They did it. I cross the field and jump into my brother's arms. Oliver swings me around laughing, and then tosses me up, only for Gavin to catch me. The team and the others in the pack surround us. The older wolves howl while we, the juveniles, can only scream with joy. I have never been more proud of my brothers. I've watched them day in and day out train until they could barely stand to get here. I know it's one of the happiest days in their lives, and I get to be a part of it. "Where's Dad?" Oliver asks. I stare back at him, not knowing how to answer without ruining the win. I think he sees it in my eyes because he nods. "It's cool." "I'm here," I take his hand, and his smile returns. I jump on him again. "You did it!" "We did it," Gavin comes over with some of the other older boys and his mate. Joclyn. Joclyn is the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my life, and she complements my brother perfectly. The ideal beta couple is coming into power. I hear all the whispers about them, how they're going to make the pack stronger. The best thing that could have happened to the Artume Pack was the alpha bringing in my father when he was seventeen years old. No one has anything bad to say about any of us. "Hey," I point at Dad. We all turn to see him running to us. "He came!" I beam, patting Oliver's arm. "He's here." Ollie has always tried his best to please our dad. To walk in Gavin's footsteps to show him that he's worthy of being an official Beta. I know our father is as proud as the rest of our family, but he works a lot. Being the Pack's acting Beta is a full-time job, and sometimes he misses things. Gavin tries to explain, but it's hard to listen when there's a vacant spot in every event or ceremony. "Something's wrong." Gavin takes my hand and pushes me towards Joclyn. She immediately pulls me to her. Dad waves his hands. "Run," Oliver shouts at us. "Sophie," Joclyn pulls me, and I lose my grip on my brother's arm. A loud howl echoes in the darkness in the treeline. Joclyn's hold on my hand tightens as a massive wolves come out of the darkness like demonic shadows—one after the other in every direction. "Gavin!" I cry out, but he's nowhere in sight. "Sophie, stay with me," Joclyn shouts. I follow. The two of us run towards the crowd. She's smart, she's ducking under the crowd with me in tow, not trying to go through them. I scream when someone hits the floor beside me. It's Ms. Harper, my Algebra one teacher. Her eyes are looking back at me, but there's nothing in them. I scramble away from her to get closer to Joclyn. The two of us managed to get under the bleachers with a couple of other girls from my class. "Stay behind me," Joclyn growls. Two big wolves appear up ahead. We turn around to find two more at the other end. "The tunnel," I cry out. "Go," Joclyn shoves me, and she shifts. I take the hands of two of the other girls, and we make a run for it as some of the other pack wolves back Joclyn out. I push the girls to the left, keeping us tight against the wall. Two rogues run past us. I glance back at the others, knowing that they have no idea what to do. Not any more than I do. Think. Think, Soph. What would Ollie do? I poke my head out to see that people are dying everywhere. I see an opening to the parking lot. "Okay," I look over at the girl behind me. She's in my PE class. "Okay, do you remember when we did all four exercises?" "Yes," she nods, along with some of the other girls. "Don't stop until you get out of the gate. Head towards the main building," I order. "What about you?" she cries. "I'm right behind you," I promise. She steps forward. "The gate and then the main building. Hide anywhere." The four of them take off running the way we practiced. I look back and see no one. I don't want to leave Joclyn behind, but there's really nothing I can do. I turn around and run after them. I repeat it in my head over and over. The gate. The main building. The gate. The main building. The gate. The main building. My body screams when my hands reach the gate. I try to catch my breath, and as I prepare to break for the parking lot, I hear a howl, and my body freezes. I turn around to see my father's wolf trying to fight off the wolves, but I lock on to the dark brown wolf behind him. Gavin. My blood runs cold. Another howl echoes in the distance. I see the pretty sand colored wolf sprint across the field and clash against the group of rogues my father is trying to fend off. I step back, unable to believe what I'm seeing. My eyes scan the crowd, trying to find Oliver. I don't see him anywhere. He wouldn't want me to get in the way. If I run out there, I can risk getting hurt or distracting them more. I turn around only to come face-to-face with two wolves. Everything happens so fast. The pain blurs a lot of what's happening. I scream as I'm dragged towards the treeline. I kick and claw, calling out for help. I hear it then, Oliver's howl. The teeth embedded in my shoulder are pulled away, and I cry out as my brother's black wolf runs past me. "Oliver!" I cry out. But it's no use. I can't move. Everything feels hot, and all I can do is watch as those monsters rip my sixteen-year-old, newly shifted brother apart. I can't breathe. All I can taste is the metal in my mouth. I turn slowly, searching the chaos for my Dad. "Daddy!" I call out. I repeat it over and over as I pull myself towards the light of the parking lot. I reach the border and pull myself closer to the light. Two growls come from behind me. I look back to see the two rogues stalking towards me. The bigger one barks, and I cry out. It pounces forward, biting at my leg. With what little strength I have, I kick him. He whines, and the other one pounces on me. Its paw lands on the wound on my shoulder, and all I can do is scream. There's a howl, and the wolves pause. The look in the direction it came from. One of them runs off, but the other one keeps its eyes on me. The howl turns into a roar just as he's about to bite me again. He freezes mid-attack and turns his attention to the darkness behind him. More wolves rush out of the darkness. One in particular stands out. A massive silverback jumps out of the darkness of the clearing. His silver fur was almost luminescent in the full moon's light. He tears those other wolves apart without mercy. The one hovering over me lowers his body and turns around to escape. I scream and reach for it. The wolf is startled, and it bites me. I cry out again and again, refusing to let go. I can feel it tearing at my stomach, but if I'm dying, he's coming with me. Silver comes in my direction, and the wolf latched onto me let's go. I keep my arms around its leg the same way I had when my brothers won tonight. I feel the hit of the young King taking the wolf off me. I fall onto my back. Water or maybe blood fills my lungs, and I can't breathe at all. I try to gasp for air, but relief never comes. All I can see are the stadium lights that illuminate the football field I've grown to love. I lay here thinking that was probably the worst thing that could have ever happened to me. The man at my back, who swore his love and devotion, sleeps peacefully, not caring that he's tearing me apart. 5 I sit up when my alarm goes off and turn it off before it can wake him. I shower, trying my best to get his scent off my skin. To erase what he did to me until he was satisfied. My skin is raw by the time I'm ready for my first class today. I make a quick breakfast for us. I take my coffee and try to escape before he wakes up. I almost jump out of my skin when I turn around to see him standing behind me. He's never hidden his presence from me before. His smile is one I'm very familiar with. I have woken up to it every morning since his return. It was a testament to the happy life I thought we were building. It comes off sinister now that I've seen the beast he'd been hiding from me after all these years. I look at him, and I only see a stranger now. A stranger in my mate's skin. "You were going to leave without saying goodbye?" he asks, stepping closer. "I didn't want to wake you, and I'm already running late," I lie, taking my cup off the counter. He steps with me and takes the cup. "Okay," he says, putting it back on the counter. "I made a reservation for us at-" "Do you really think going out in public would sit well with the pack days after your wedding?" I ask, stopping him. He tenses up. He's never been one for rejection, and up until now, I've never had a reason to say no. I'm questioning everything, and all I feel is emptiness. "I'm trying to make it up to you," he sighs. "I didn't want this either, Sophia." "I understand, which is why I'm telling you now that going out in public wouldn't be right. It would reflect poorly on the two of us. It'll be disrespectful to your wife," I see him visibly tense up as I take my cup from the counter again. "I'll see you tonight. Here, where no one can see." "I'm sorry," he blocks my path again. "Tell me how to make this right again." I stare at him to see if he looks genuine. He seems to think this is a tiny little obstacle in our path, but he doesn't understand the rules of choosing a mate. He's not going to get anything he wants without marking Poppy. What we had was over the moment he allowed his parents to dictate what would happen as he moved forward as the alpha of Artume City. Hell will freeze over before I ever forgive him. Not just for the wedding or not being able to stand up for us, but because of his actions. I don't want him anywhere near me, and he doesn't seem to care. He doesn't see that he's hurting me and making things worse. "I just need some space," I step back. "You didn't even warn me, Santiago. I knew your parents stopped caring for me the moment you told them I was an omega. I didn't think you would ever buy into it. You accepting this only proves to me that you think the same thing they do." "I don't. Sophie, you mean everything to me. You are the love of my life. From the moment I laid eyes on you," he grabs my wrist. "You have to know that." "I did," I pull my arm out of his grip. "But I find it very hard to believe it's the truth anymore." He stares at me, and I can see the war he's in with his wolf. His expression blanks, and I look away to go for the door. "Do you still love me, Soph?" he asks as I step out of the apartment. I take a deep breath and leave without saying a word because that's a stupid question. I hurry into my car and leave before he decides that he wants me to stay with him for the day. Sitting in class is not something I want to be doing right now. I'm in agony, and I have nowhere to go to let it out. Everyone is staring at me. I may not have a wolf, but I can still hear them whispering about me. Those who have hated me from the moment Santiago made our relationship known think I have finally been put in my place. As if being Santiago's mate was the only thing I was ever good at. It's such a shallow notion, and it's an odd feeling when I think that I was no better until the day I didn't shift. I complete the pop quiz and take it to the front. I'm still the first one done. I'm probably the only one in this class who's going to ace it. None of them is going to see that simply because my misery is more exciting. They want something to make me smaller. Envy is ugly when power is involved. I never wanted any of it. I fell in love with the idea of mates, especially after I lost my family. Before I went to Artume Academy, my grandmother had to stay here with me. We were both miserable. She was stuck here babysitting a twelve-year-old who couldn't even move after the attack—two years of surgeries and physical training. It was lonely, so when I met the boy with the pretty sea glass colored eyes and sly smirk, I didn't even question it. It was comforting to be vulnerable around him. To have someone to share my small world with. He was my best friend, but he was gone for a whole year, and things can change during a big stretch of time. I was stupid to think I'd get the same person back. "Ms Helvig," Professor Harrington greets me. She takes my test and sets it down on her desk. "If you need some time to-" "I don't. I'm fine," I reassure her. Her pity stings. I gather my things, wanting nothing more than to go back to my apartment and sleep for the rest of the day. "Omega bitch," someone growls as I make my way over to the exit. I pause and see an eraser on the desk beside me. Using my knee, I knock the table up and round-house kick the eraser at her. She turns back to look at me right on time, and I get her right in the center of her forehead. The class laughs at her when she stands up and screams. "I may be some omega bitch, but I can still end you. Then you'd be the stupid bitch that some omega nobody killed," I remind her. Her eyes are glowing amber with rage. I stand my ground, waiting for her to give me an excuse to beat the shit out of her. She stares at me long enough for it to be embarrassing for her. She takes a seat without saying another word. Some of the others laugh at her. I walk out satisfied. I slam against a brick wall, dropping all of my things. I look up to see a smirk aimed back at me. "Bullying the little girls, Little Omega?" he grins. "Some things never change, huh?" 6 It's been about three years since the last time I've been around the second crown prince of the Lycans. My grandmother used to bring him and his older brother here when the Lycan King and Queen were away on business. Ivar Axel is five years older than me and was best friends with my eldest brother, Gavin. Growing up, he and Gavin made it their life's purpose to infuriate me and my brother Oliver. "My prince," I step back and bow. "Don't even do that," he laughs. I smile at him and crouch down to pick up my things. "Are you okay?" Professor Harrington comes out of the classroom to check on me. I stand up, looking between the two of them. Ivar hands me my belongings. "I'm sorry for the interruption, Professor. I ran into an old friend. This is Ivar Axel. The second crown prince," I introduce him so that she can just go back inside and leave me the hell alone. Is everyone going to ask me if I'm okay? That's the last thing I need. Maybe leaving school early and having to work twice as hard in the upcoming term, so I'm not set back, isn't as bad as I think it might be. Then again, the perfectionist in me would riot. "My prince," she bows to him. She looks up at me. For a moment, she considers reaching for me, but she hesitates, then nods. "Be careful." "What was that?" Ivar laughs when she goes back into her classroom. "Don't ask," I shake my head. "It's been a long time, your highness." "I know. I'm sorry, but it's been a long two-" "Three years," I correct him. I was sixteen the last time I saw him. Not long after, I found out I was an omega. I chalked it up to the exact reason why everyone else pulled away. When others heard I didn't shift, they recoiled as if I had suddenly become contagious. "Shit, it's really been that long?" he laughs. "I'm going to the cafeteria for breakfast. Want to come?" "Lead the way. You know I love to eat." "What brings you to Artume City?" I ask. He takes a deep breath and lets out the heaviest sigh ever. I laugh at how dramatic he still is. That hasn't changed at all. "I got in trouble," he admits. "The night before a huge summit, I went out with some of the alphas in the North, and we got plastered. I didn't show, and Ragnar benched me for the rest of the year." "Ivar," I say his name, disappointedly. The alphas of the North are known for their wild parties. They're all a bunch of cowboys. "I know. I know," he shrugs. "But honestly, I don't even care. I'm tired. I hate politics, and my dad wants me to be beta. That means I'd have to walk beside Ragnar for the rest of my life, and I can't think of anything worse." "I thought you guys were close. Did something happen?" I ask. "Nah, I just hate how planned out his life is. He doesn't know how to have fun. He's devoted to sucking up to our dad and training to be the new Lycan King. I don't have that responsibility, and we have an amazing up-and-coming Beta. I don't see why he's pushing this so hard." "I can think of one thing. You'd be the King's most trusted. There would be no one better to watch his back than his own brother," I shrug. He takes two trays off the belt and hands me one. "Okay, when you put it like that, it makes me sound like I'm entitled," he smirks. "Just a little," I laugh. "So, what? You decided to come slum it with us civilians?" "Actually, I'm here on guard duty." "Oh yeah? Who?" I ask, interested. "You," he says. "Me?" I ask, glancing back at him as I reach for a slice of pizza. I snort as I take a few other items. "Why would I need guarding?" "You tell me. Major General Helvig set the order. My orders are to stay with you until your move to Blackstone. She didn't specify any details," he says, glancing at me as if I were hiding some grand secret. I grab a couple of drinks and get in line for the cash register. My stomach tightens as I play what he said over and over in my head. She couldn't make it, so she sent Ivar to make sure I made it back in one piece. Santiago is not going to like it one bit. Shit. "Ms Helvig," the girl at the register greets me kindly. "Hey, Steph," I say. "The two lunches, please." "Of course," she says and rings us up. We take a seat somewhere away from the big crowds. "Is there something you want to tell me?" he asks. I reach for my lemonade. The sleeve of my hoodie pulls up. I try not to make it evident that I'm hiding it, but I know he saw it. His playful demeanor instantly fades. He stares at me as I reach for my breakfast pizza slice and take a bite. What am I supposed to do in this situation? Lie? To the crown prince? And then what? I tell him the truth, and he confronts Santiago. This is not going to end well. "Some shit happened," I shrug it off. "Who did that to you?" he asks. "I mostly did it to myself," ugh. I just said that. "Did Santiago hurt you?" he asks, his voice low, and leans forward to hear my answer. I don't know how to answer him. I don't know how to explain what is happening to me. I'm scared. Anything I do or say will be evaluated. Santiago made a choice, and I wasn't it. Yet things aren't as black-and-white as that. He sits back without pushing it, and I feel like an idiot for feeling this relieved. "Can we talk about this later? Where are you staying?" I ask him. "At the Helvig Estate. There are instructions for you," he says, reaching into his jacket pocket. He places the envelope with the royal seal wax stamp on it. I wipe my hands and my mouth before reaching for it. There are envelopes—one for me and one for Santiago. I shut my eyes, already exhausted with where this is headed. I open my letter to see it written on the page. By order of Major General Zaraphine Helvig, Sophia Marie Anne Helvig is to return to the Helvig estate for the remainder of her school term to liquidate all Helvig properties and ensure the safety of all valuables so they may be returned to her in Blackstone. It's specified that no outsiders are to enter the house during this time to protect said valuables. It goes on to say that Ivar is here to ensure that everything listed is completed in accordance with the provided schedule. It's not only signed by my grandmother, but the Lycan King himself. If anyone were to question it, they would have to ask the two of them directly. "Fuck my life," I toss the envelope onto the other one. He'll know exactly what's going to happen when the term ends in three months. There will be no hiding it, even if I'm able to convince him for a while. We'll both know. I wonder if we're going to make it out of this. If anything will ever be okay again. "You promise to tell me what's going on when we get home?" he asks. "I'm going to have to keep him off you, aren't I?" "I'd like to think he's above that, but it's a probability," I whisper. "Okay," he nods, his expression softening. "I'll try not to kill him. Although I doubt my brother would hate it when I tell him I mistakenly started a war because someone is hurting you."

I signed the rejection papers while my mate kissed another woman on our bed. The pen didn't even shake in my hand. Three years of marriage—and this was how it ended. Not with a fight. Not with tears. Just the quiet scratch of ink on paper while she moaned his name in the next room. I placed the signed documents on the kitchen counter, right next to the breakfast I'd made him—his favorite, eggs Benedict with smoked salmon. The plate was still warm. Then I picked up my bag and walked toward the door. I didn't slam it. I closed it gently, the way I'd done everything in this marriage—quietly, carefully, making sure I never disturbed anyone. The morning air hit my face. Cold. Sharp. January in New York. My wolf stirred inside me, weak but restless. *"We need to tell him,"* she whispered. I pressed my hand against my stomach—still flat, but not for long. Six weeks pregnant. With the child of an Alpha who just rejected me for his childhood sweetheart. No. He didn't need to know. He'd made his choice. And I'd made mine. I pulled out my phone and dialed the only number I had left. "Aunt Harper? It's Elara." "Elara? Oh my God, sweetheart—what's wrong? It's six in the morning." "I need a place to stay. Can I come to you?" A pause. Then, softly: "What did he do?" My throat tightened. I wanted to be strong. I wanted to sound unbothered. But when someone asks you *what happened* with genuine care in their voice—after three years of no one asking at all—something inside you just... breaks. "He chose her," I whispered. "He's been choosing her for months. I just... I didn't want to see it." "I'm booking your train ticket right now. Don't argue." "Okay." "And Elara?" "Yeah?" "You're never going back to that man. Do you hear me?" I ended the call and stood on the sidewalk, watching the city wake up around me. Somewhere behind me, in the penthouse I'd called home for three years, my husband—no, my *ex*-husband—was tangled in sheets with Megan Cross, the woman he told me was "just a colleague." Funny thing was, I'd believed him. Every single time. When she called at midnight, I believed him. When her perfume clung to his collar, I believed him. When she showed up at our anniversary dinner "by coincidence," I smiled and offered her a seat. Because that's what Luna Elara did. She trusted. She forgave. She stayed. But Luna Elara was gone now. My phone buzzed. Aunt Harper had sent the ticket. The train left in two hours. I didn't look back—not once. But my wolf did. And the last thing she felt through the bond, before I shut it down completely, was this: He was laughing. He was laughing with her in our bed—and he hadn't even noticed I was gone.