[8]

Alaric’s POV

The room was silent—so quiet that the ticking clock on the wall sounded deafening.

The pile of documents before me meant nothing anymore. Every word on those pages blurred together, drowned by the same haunting image that refused to fade—Cassandra.

I shut my eyes and pressed my fingers against my temples, trying to ease the growing frustration clawing inside me. “Damn it,” I muttered under my breath.

The pen slipped from my hand, clattering against the marble desk with a sharp metallic echo. The sound vanished almost instantly, swallowed by the emptiness of the room. Only the slow tick of the clock and the weight of my own breathing remained.

A glance at my wristwatch told me it was past nine. Once again, I’d missed dinner with Lyra.

She’d be angry. But I couldn’t bring myself to care.

What truly drove me insane wasn’t Lyra’s anger—it was the cruel truth that every time I looked at her… I saw her.

Cassandra.

That ghost never left me. Even now, as my gaze drifted to the framed wedding photo on my desk—the photo that was supposed to represent happiness—I still saw Cassandra there instead of Lyra.

And yet, I knew perfectly well that the woman in that picture was my wife now.

But whenever my eyes met Lyra’s under the soft light, something inside me twisted painfully. They had the same eyes—same color, same shape, the same piercing way of looking straight through me as if they could see the cracks I tried so hard to hide.

I hated it.

I hated that Lyra reminded me of Cassandra.

I hated that Cassandra still lived through her.

Every time I looked at that damned photo, I was hit by two things at once—an ache of longing and a surge of fury. Longing for the woman I once believed was mine entirely… and hatred for the one who shattered everything I trusted.

Cassandra Vale.

Just hearing her name was enough to make my heart pound uncontrollably.

I stared at the photo longer, until Lyra’s image blurred, replaced by the memory of Cassandra from five years ago—her soft gaze, her smile, her voice whispering my Alpha in that gentle tone. It all came rushing back, uninvited, unwanted. And as if fate wanted to mock me, I could almost smell her—sweet and faint, the scent that used to cling to her neck.

My jaw clenched. I was furious—furious that I could still remember.

“Stop,” I muttered hoarsely, the command aimed at myself. But my body didn’t obey.

I miss Selena too.

The voice of my Inner Wolf—Fenrir—echoed from deep within.

“Shut up,” I snapped. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

Because no matter how hard I tried to erase her, Cassandra was still here.

In my mind.

In every corner of this room.

In Lyra’s shadow.

Even in my heart—where she should’ve died long ago.

The faint sound of footsteps in the hallway broke my thoughts. Moments later, the door to my office opened without a knock. Only one person would dare to do that.

“My Alpha.”

Lyra’s voice was soft, fragile, almost trembling. I turned to look at her—she stood there in a white nightgown, her pale skin nearly translucent under the dim light.

“You should be resting,” I said flatly.

She gave a faint smile but kept walking toward me. “I couldn’t sleep.” Then she sank into my lap, resting her head against my chest. Once, I might’ve welcomed her warmth. Now…

“You should get some rest,” I said again, gently pushing her away. “I still have work to finish.”

“But Alaric,” she whispered, her voice laced with tears. “Can’t you stay with me tonight? I… I’m not feeling well.”

I knew that. Somehow, day by day, Lyra was growing weaker. I’d brought the best doctors and healers to SilverFang, but none of them could restore her strength. Some said it was the aftermath of the marking ritual—one that shouldn’t have happened between wolves who weren’t true mates.

“You’ve been taking your medicine regularly, haven’t you?” I asked.

“Of course.” She smiled faintly and tried to settle back into my lap. “Come on… don’t you miss me?”

Her voice—soft and coy—was the kind of sound that once could undo me completely. But before I could answer, a sharp knock on the door broke the moment. I cleared my throat, straightened in my seat, and called out, “Come in.”

The door opened slowly. Cassian—my Beta, my right hand, and the brother of the woman I once loved—stepped inside. His face was tense, as though he carried news he’d rather not deliver.

“Forgive me for interrupting, Alpha,” he said, lowering his head slightly when he saw Lyra beside me.

“Go on, I’ll join you later,” I told Lyra, who pouted in clear irritation. She rose reluctantly, shooting Cassian a sharp look before leaving the room.

“Alpha Alaric,” Cassian greeted shortly, placing a stack of files on my desk. “The latest court report just came in.”

I regarded him with a calm, unreadable expression. “And?”

He drew a slow breath. “The NightFang Pack has officially filed an objection to our claim. They’re denying all accusations of territorial violation.”

I raised a brow, flipping open the file. “They’re denying it. When we were this close to winning?”

“Yes, Alaric.” He swallowed hard. “And… they’ve also submitted new evidence. According to our legal team, it’s strong—strong enough to overturn the case.”

The air between us tightened. I leaned back in my chair, my fingers drumming quietly on the desk. “I thought this case was already settled, Cassian. Every initial report pointed to our victory.”

“That’s true,” he said, bowing his head slightly. “But… it seems they’ve hired a new attorney. And not just anyone.”

My eyes narrowed. “Who?”

“We don’t have a confirmed identity yet. The NightFang side sealed all records. But…” Cassian hesitated before adding, “Alpha Orion Caldrex himself has been personally escorting that lawyer to court on several occasions.”

I let out a low, incredulous scoff. “He did what? For a lawyer?”

Cassian nodded grimly. “Yes. They said that person won three major cases across three different territories in less than a year. Every opponent lost completely—some even went bankrupt. The Council calls them the Lone Wolf.”

A short laugh escaped me—dry and dismissive. “A nickname fit for an arrogant fool.”

“And…” Cassian hesitated again, then added carefully, “Rumor has it, the lawyer is a woman.”

“A woman?” I repeated flatly, though my chest tightened for reasons I couldn’t explain. “And what of it?”

Cassian exhaled slowly. “Some say she used to be a Luna—of a powerful Pack. But after her mate’s death, her identity was erased.”

I froze.

Something in my head rang sharply, like a bell struck too hard. That single word—Luna—pulled up memories I’d buried deep beneath duty and denial. A pair of soft eyes. A voice that once called me her Alpha. Then, just as quickly, the memory faded—replaced by the image of her half-sister, the woman who now wore my mark.

I leaned back in my chair, watching as the evening sky bled crimson. “Interesting,” I muttered flatly. “NightFang wants to wage war through the law. Fine. Let’s see just how good their lawyer really is.”

Cassian bowed his head. “Should I order the legal team to prepare a counterstrategy?”

“Not yet.” My voice was calm, cold—sharp as steel. “First, I want to know who that woman is.”

He hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Understood. I’ll take my leave, Alpha Alaric.”

When the door shut behind him, silence crept back into the room.

I leaned deeper into my chair, my fingers unconsciously brushing the left side of my neck. The mark there—once faint—seemed to throb whenever I thought of her. It never truly faded, that cursed reminder of the night Cassandra had marked me in return.

Closing my eyes, I saw her again in the darkness—her soft smile, the quiet way she used to say my name. But like poison seeping through my veins, that image twisted into another: those damned photographs. Cassandra, in the arms of another man… from an enemy Pack.

Heat surged through me, rage boiling up from where love used to live. “Traitorous woman,” I hissed through clenched teeth. “I will never forgive you.”