A Single Night, A Lasting Claim

Flora’s POV

"I have something important to tell you on our fifth anniversary," Donovan, my boyfriend, said this morning.

I was nervous but mostly excited. This could only mean one thing, right? He’s going to propose!

I spent all day preparing. My dress hugged my figure perfectly, and I’d taken extra care with my makeup. The cursed claw-shaped scar on my face was hidden beneath layers of concealer.

I even wore colored contact lenses to cover my heterochromia. Donovan always said my two-colored eyes looked strange, though they were a part of who I was.

Anyways, tonight would be the night everything changed. Once we mated, my curse would finally be broken!

I sat nervously at Crimson Moon Café, glancing at my wristwatch. He was late, so I decided to call him but all I got was the cold, automated prompt telling me to leave a voicemail.

“Hey baby, where are you? I’ve been waiting for you for an hour. Call me back as soon as you get this voice message, ok?”

I ended the call with a shaky breath, but the thought that he might be planning a surprise for our fifth anniversary had me grinning from ear to ear.

“Have you decided what to order, Miss?” the waiter asked politely.

I glanced up and shook my head. “No, I’m waiting for someone.”

The waiter left, and I sighed, glancing at the cake in front of me—a cake I’d made myself for this perfect night. I’d imagined us sharing it together, laughing and reminiscing about our years together.

“Flora.”

My heart leaped at the sound of his voice. He’s here! I turned with a bright smile, but my excitement evaporated in an instant.

Donovan wasn’t alone.

A girl clung to his arm, her lips curling into a smug smile. She was familiar—too familiar.

My stomach churned.

“Donovan? And… Layla?” My voice trembled as I looked between them. “What’s going on? W-What is she doing here?”

Donovan’s expression was cold and detached. Something about his gaze made my chest tighten with dread.

“Meet my mate, Layla,” he said with a smirk, his tone dripping with arrogance.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The words didn’t make sense. 

“W-What? Are you serious, Donovan?!”

The restaurant grew quiet as people began to notice the scene. My voice rose, and I stood, my heart hammering in my chest.

He sighed, as if my pain was an inconvenience to him.

“You’re being naive, Flora. A werewolf is always going to choose their mate. You should’ve known this.”

My chest tightened. “B-But you promised!” I cried, my voice cracking. “You said that even if you found your mate, you’d reject her. You said we’d be together, no matter what!”

“Come on, Flora. Let’s be honest. I was only with you because of your money. Now that your father’s gone and leaving a huge debt on you, there’s nothing keeping me here.” He sneered. “And honestly, you’re too old-fashioned. You wouldn’t even have sex with me. What kind of a fucking relationship is that?”

Suddenly, Layla’s laugh was sharp, cutting through the tension like shattered glass.

I remember how she bullied me when we were classmates—every cruel word, every violent shove.

"No one even wants you around, you hybrid freak!"

Her cold laughter and harsh insults echoed in my ears like it was just yesterday.

Seeing her now, clinging to Donovan with that same smug smile, made my stomach twist with fury.

She tilted her head, her fingers brushing against the fresh mark on her neck as if daring me to look.

“Oh, Flora, check this,” she said, her voice dripping with cruelty. “He’s mine now.”

She leaned in closer, her smirk widening as she scanned me from head to toe. “Look at you, sitting there all dressed up like you actually had a chance. It’s pathetic. Did you really think Donovan would waste his future on you?”

Layla laughed again, harsher this time, and picked up the cake I had made. With a mocking smile, she tilted it toward me. “Is this what you thought would impress him? A homemade cake?”

Then, without warning, she tipped it over, letting it slide off the plate and onto the floor with a loud splat.

“Oops! Sorry, you lowly hybrid freak!” She laughed again, with the stupid Donovan.

Something inside me snapped.

Without thinking, I grabbed the cake from the floor and hurled it at them. The satisfying splat of frosting hitting their smug faces!

Layla shrieked, trying to wipe the mess off her designer dress. “Oh my Goddess! Crazy freak, what have you done?!”

“I hope you both rot in hell!” I shouted with all my strength and stormed out of the restaurant. 

When I got home, the adrenaline drained from my body, leaving me exhausted and broken.

My reflection in the mirror stopped me in my tracks. My makeup was smudged, and the red claw-shaped scar on my cheek was visible again, a reminder of the curse that still loomed over me.

I sank to the floor, tears streaming down my face. “One month,” I whispered. That’s all the time I had left before my 18th birthday. If I wasn’t marked by then, I would die.

The thought made my chest tighten. I’d spent years being faithful, waiting for Donovan to fulfill his promise. But he’d betrayed me in the worst possible way.

No more like this!

If he didn’t want me, I’d find someone who would!

I reapplied my makeup to make my face flawless again. I slipped into a revealing red dress that clung to my body.

An hour later, I arrived at the Howling Den, a bar notorious for its rowdy crowd of werewolves.

The air was thick with the scent of alcohol and the electric energy of wolves letting loose. As I walked in, heads turned, and I felt the hungry stares of men following my every move.

My plan was reckless but simple: find a pure-blooded werewolf, seduce him, and let him mark me. TONIGHT.