Bound To The Night Reaper

Maya's POV:

The grandfather clock in the living room had just struck eleven-thirty while I stood at the wide window, with the curtains balled in my fists as I stared down the moonlit drive until my eyes burned. Behind me the roast I’d spent the whole afternoon coaxing into tenderness sat cold on the long oak table, candles guttered to stubs, and wax hardened into little white puddles that looked too much like tears I refused to shed.

I had changed the linens twice, rearranged the silverware three times, and still the head chair remained empty. Every time my knees bent toward the couch, something yanked me back to the window, hoping that his car would appear any second because had looked me dead in the eye this morning and said that he would be back on time and I believed him.

“Where are you?” I muttered under my breath as I paced around the polished floorboards with my bare feet until headlights finally cut the dark a quarter past midnight and my breath snagged.

I smoothed my dress with shaking hands and stepped into the foyer just as the front door swung open and Declan filled the doorway, shoulders straining the dark jacket, carrying the sharp scent of lavender. His hair was rumpled, like he’d dragged his fingers through it a dozen times and he avoided my gaze as he shut the door with a click.

“Where have you been?” The question tore out of me before I could stop myself and he paused, keys still dangling from his fingers. “Work.”

“Work?” I echoed, my voice cracking right down the middle. Then I took another step, cold tiles biting the soles of my feet. “Declan, today is our fifth anniversary and I had begged you to come home for a dinner I spent hours…” My throat sealed shut as I flung a hand toward the dining room, toward the meal I couldn’t even name anymore.

He let out a short breath through his nose, almost bored. “We aren’t doing the public show this year, Maya. There’s no reason to pretend.”

The floor tilted under me as I stared at the man who had always offered me a polite half-smile over breakfast, who had eaten every plate I set in front of him without complaint, who had sat through awkward pack-business talk and never once raised his voice.

He had never spoken to me like this. Never!

My lips parted, but nothing came out instead the words he’d dropped before our wedding echoed in my head. “Don’t expect love from me.” He'd said and I nodded then because what else does a girl from the poorest edge of the pack do when the Alpha picks her?

But over the years, the way his hand held my waist for the cameras, I had worn that warning thinner and thinner until I let myself believe it might not be true. Tonight I had planned to hand him the truth anyway now I was grateful the words had stayed locked behind my teeth.

“Declan.” I called out as he turned toward the stairs and he stopped but didn’t turn around. “Is this because Samantha’s back?” I asked. “Don’t start.” He said, but I persisted.

“For days you’ve barely been home and every time I confront you, I receive the same excuse about work. But Alphas don’t vanish into offices, Declan. They dial into meetings from the study and you’ve done it for years but the moment you brought her and that six-year-old boy back, you suddenly had work to do.”

He said nothing but I couldn’t stop because the pain had been stacking for weeks. “You’re pathetic, you know that? Running back to a woman who walked away from you. Who had a child with someone else while you sat here waiting like some fool…”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped. “Samantha married that man because she had no choice. She has always loved me but she broke our bond because she had no choice.”

He stared at me for one long, awful second, chest heaving, then spun on his heel and strode down the hall. The study door clicked shut behind him while I stood frozen in the foyer until my legs simply gave up. Then I climbed the stairs on numb feet, the dress dragging behind me like chains.

In our bedroom I left the lights off and perched on the edge of the mattress, ears straining for the sound of his footsteps coming back but the study door never opened. So, I curled onto my side, dress and all, and buried my face in the pillow that still held the faintest trace of him. The tears came then, soaking the linen until it stuck to my cheek and I cried until my ribs felt bruised, until my throat scraped raw, and until exhaustion finally dragged me under.

Once morning light slipped through the curtains, I woke up with eyes swollen shut and laid there staring at the empty side of the bed. “I have to try harder. I will smile until my cheeks ache, and I will be the Luna he needs until he finally realizes that he loves me.”

Forcing a smile onto my face, I pushed myself up, splashed cold water on my face until the redness faded, and pulled on a cream blouse and dark jeans. Then I made my way to the kitchen where the maids moved around quietly. Seeing that the dining table had been cleared, I yanked open the refrigerator and started hauling out last night’s ruined dinner, from the congealed roast, to the limp vegetables, and the untouched cake.

One by one I dropped them into the trash and although the smell of cold gravy turned my stomach, I kept going until the bin was full and my hands stopped trembling. Then I prepared breakfast with the maids in silence. When the plates were arranged on the tray, I turned to one of the maids when the front doorbell rang through the house.

The younger maid hurried to answer it and I followed a few steps behind, wiping my hands on a dish towel as the door swung open and Victoria stood on the threshold, suitcase at her feet, traveling coat still buttoned tight to her throat. She looked exactly as she had the day she left three months ago, elegant, cold, and disappointed.

My stomach dropped straight through the floor but I forced my mouth into a smile anyway. “Mother. You’re back. We weren’t expecting…”

Her gaze slid over me like I was furniture she’d already decided to replace and a scoff slipped from her lips as she brushed past me and headed straight up the stairs, while I stood there with the dish towel twisted tight in my fists.

Why now? After months of sweet, blessed silence, why today? I swallowed the question, turned, and decided I would fetch Declan myself to tell him that his mother was here. I walked down the corridor to the study, and saw the door was slightly ajar with voices drifting out.

“Is it true? Are you involved with that woman again?” I heard Victoria ask “How did you even know?” Declan pressed and I pressed my back to the wall, hardly daring to breathe.

Victoria remained silent so Declan asked. “Did you have the maids spy on me again?”

“I had to because you never tell me.” Victoria replied, then she sighed. “Five years ago you went behind my back and married that useless, barren girl from the slums. Now you’re sniffing around your ex who already has a six-year-old by another man.”

My hand flew to my mouth as the word barren sliced straight through me, lodging somewhere deep and hollow where I had hoped, month after month, that this time would finally be different.

“The child is mine.” Declan declared and the floor vanished beneath my feet.