A little game.

Sabrina.

I stood awkwardly on the dance floor, trying to act unfazed by the absence of my mate, especially, in the middle of the dancing floor, alone, where the couples were supposed to be dancing, but I was failing, miserably, too.

Their eyes were on me, heavily, filled with equal dosages of pity and judgment, especially as they looked at the now-empty space, where Amery was occupying, and the empty space next to me, where Rhys was supposed to be standing.

Where he was? The answer was painfully obvious. Somewhere, consoling Amery. The wedding had been hers and Rhys', but I replaced her, becoming the luna. Of course, the pack members were aware of the thick tension balancing between the three of us.

After the newlyweds' first dance, other couples joined us, eagerly swaying to the beats, cozzying up to their mates, and as they danced, looking all happy, I felt like my heart was being squeezed, their occasional giggles a mockery to the bitterness that coiled up in my gut.