Chapter 3

The Shadow of a Luna

The silence in the foyer was worse than a scream. It felt like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room, leaving me gasping for air while clutching a silk sheet that smelled of the man currently trying to destroy me.

Declan, one of the lead guards, stepped forward. He didn't look me in the eye. He just reached for my arm, his grip like a vice.

"Don't touch me," I whispered, my voice cracking.

"Move, Raya," Declan muttered, his tone low. "Don't make this harder than it has to be. You heard the Alpha."

The Alpha. Not Brock. Never again just Brock.

I looked down at the man on the floor. He was leaning into Claire, his hand possessively on her waist. He looked like he was under a spell. The way his wolf was vibrating, reaching out to hers, was a physical force in the room. It was the fated bond, the thing of legends, and it was currently trampling over every promise he had made me in the dark.

"Is this a joke?" I shouted, my voice finally finding its strength. "Brock, look at me! You told me last night that you chose me. You said you didn't care about the bond!"

A collective gasp went up from the Elders. Raven, the pack healer and one of the few people who actually looked at me with pity, stepped forward, but a sharp look from the former Alpha, Antrim, stopped her in her tracks.

Brock finally looked at me. He didn't look like my best friend. He looked like a predator looking at a nuisance.

"Last night was a moment of weakness," Brock said, his Alpha voice cutting through the room like a blade. "I was under the stress of the transition. My wolf was restless. You were... available. That is all."

"Available?" The word felt like a slap. "We’ve been best friends for twenty years. I gave you everything."

Claire stepped forward then, her blue eyes shimmering with a fake kind of sympathy. She looked like a doll, perfect and untouchable.

"Oh, you poor thing," Claire said, her voice dripping with sweetness that didn't reach her eyes. "You thought a few hours of fun could compete with the Moon Goddess? I’m his Fated, Raya. I’m the soul of this pack. You’re just the girl who cleans the floors."

"Claire," Brock warned, but he didn't stop her. He just pulled her closer to his side.

"Get her out," Brock commanded Declan. "She has one hour to pack her things and move to the Omega quarters. If I see her in the Alpha wing again, she will be whipped for trespassing."

The room blurred. Declan pulled me back, dragging me away from the balcony. I didn't fight him. I couldn't. My wolf was silent, curled into a ball of agony so deep I thought my heart might actually stop beating.

The Omega quarters were at the edge of the territory, a crumbling stone building that smelled of damp and old grease. I sat on the edge of a thin mattress, staring at the small suitcase I’d managed to pack.

The door creaked open. I hoped it was Raven. I hoped it was someone with a shred of humanity left.

It was Eloise.

She leaned against the doorframe, a smug grin on her face. "Well, well. From the Alpha’s bed to the doghouse in record time. I told you, Raya. You never had a chance."

"Get out, Eloise," I said, my voice dead.

"Oh, I’m not here to gloat. Well, maybe a little," she laughed. "But the Elders are already talking. They want you gone. An unmated female who slept with the Alpha right before he found his True Luna? You’re a scandal, honey. You’re a threat to the stability of the bond."

"I haven't done anything wrong," I snapped, standing up.

Eloise walked into the small room, her heels clicking on the cracked tile. "You exist. That’s what you did wrong. You think Claire wants to see your face every day? You think Brock wants a constant reminder of his mistake? You’re a stain on his perfect legacy."

She leaned in close, her scent of lavender and spite filling my nose. "If I were you, I’d run. Before Claire decides she wants your head on a silver platter. She’s already got Brock wrapped around her finger. He’ll do anything to keep her happy. Even if it means making you disappear."

She turned and left, her laughter echoing down the hallway.

I stood there for a long time, the walls of the tiny room closing in on me. I needed to see him. I needed to hear him say it one more time, without the audience, without the Elders. I needed to know if the man I loved was truly gone.

I waited until the moon was high. I knew the packhouse layout better than anyone. I knew the back entrance through the kitchens, the one Brock and I used to use when we were kids sneaking out to look at the stars.

The Alpha wing was quiet. The air was thick with the scent of them—Brock and Claire. It made my stomach churn, but I pushed through it.

I reached his office door. I could hear his heartbeat inside. Fast, steady, powerful.

I didn't knock. I walked in.

Brock was standing by the window, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He didn't turn around.

"I told you I’d have you whipped, Raya," he said, his voice a low growl.

"Then do it," I said, closing the door behind me. "Do it yourself. Don't send Declan to do your dirty work."

He turned around then. His eyes were dark, almost black. The wolf was right under the surface. "Why are you here? Is the humiliation not enough for you?"

"I want to know how you did it," I whispered, stepping closer. "How did you go from telling me you loved me at 3:00 AM to calling me a pollutant at 10:00 AM?"