Chapter 2: Married Life

Cora's POV

Liam and I have been married for two months now, but I still can’t stop thinking about the name he whispered on our wedding night.

Who exactly is Iris?

We sit at the breakfast table, a tense, awkward silence hanging between us.

Ever since the wedding, Liam has been distant.

Sure, we still sleep together, and he indulges some of my requests, but most of the time, I feel like a ghost in this house—like he doesn’t really see me.

And deep down, I can’t help but think it has something to do with Iris.

Whoever she is. 

Today, I can’t take it anymore. I have to talk to him.

He barely glances at me when I sit down, offering only a flat, passing “morning.”

I load my plate slowly, forcing myself to look at him, willing myself to be brave.

My voice wavers for just a second, but then I find my resolve.

“Who’s Iris?” I ask, blunt and direct.

Liam freezes. His eyes flick away from mine, that same cold distance rising like a wall between us.

“You must’ve misheard me, Cora,” he says, voice flat, almost mechanical. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

My heart stumbles.

“‘Cora’ and ‘Iris’ sound nothing alike,” I press, refusing to let it go. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, Liam. But if there’s someone else… I deserve to know.”

I only want the truth.

But instead, I watch in horror as a spark of fury flashes in Liam’s eyes—the most emotion he’s ever shown me.

“Shut up, Cora!”

His voice roars through the room, and a second later, his glass slams against the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces. Water spreads across the wood like a dark stain.

I flinch back instinctively, my breath catching in my throat.

Liam has never raised his voice at me before. Never.

Is he really this angry... just because I mentioned her?

A sick, heavy feeling twists in my stomach.

Liam glares at me, his face hard and cold.

“As Luna of this pack, it’s not your place to question the Alpha’s personal affairs,” he snaps, his voice dripping with disdain. “It’s been two months, and you still haven’t gotten pregnant. As a woman, and as Luna, you’ve failed.”

The words hit harder than any slap.

Tears spring to my eyes in an instant. I bite my lip to keep from sobbing right then and there.

Is this the man I’ve married?

The man I thought maybe, just maybe, I could love?

For two months, Liam has been nothing but cold.

Except in bed.

Every night—sometimes twice, sometimes more—he wants me.

At first, I convinced myself it was passion. That somehow, even if he didn’t show it in words, he cared. But deep down, the relentlessness has always unsettled me.

And now, hearing it spelled out so cruelly, I finally understand why.

Liam doesn’t love me.

He never did.

He only wants one thing: an heir.

My hands tremble under the table. But no matter how much it hurts, I can’t deny he’s right. As Luna, it is my duty to produce the next Alpha.

“But we’ve only been married two months,” I start, my voice cracking, desperate to reason with him. “Why—”

“There’s no time!” Liam roars, cutting me off.

His fists clench at his sides, his whole body tense with rage.

“You need to get pregnant. Now.”

My heart slams painfully against my ribs.

“What do you mean, ‘no time’?” I whisper.

“You don’t need to know,” Liam growls. “Your only job is to get pregnant. That’s it.”

And just like that, he storms out of the dining room, leaving me standing alone among the shattered glass.

I slump back into my chair, my whole body numb. Tears spill over, hot and endless, as reality crashes down on me.

I’m not his wife.

I’m not his partner.

I’m just... a vessel.

The ache inside me is unbearable.

But even through the heartbreak, a small, grim voice inside reminds me: I have responsibilities.

Luna duties don’t pause for broken hearts.

Wiping at my tears, I pull myself together and head to our bedroom. I start cleaning automatically—folding his clothes, straightening the coffee table, wiping down the vanity—even as my vision blurs again and again. As I wipe the vanity, though, my hand knocks against a delicate little box.

It teeters, and before I can catch it, it falls to the floor with a crack.

Panic shoots through me. That box... Liam told me never to touch it.

Frantically, I drop to my knees and gather the pieces. But when I lift the cracked lid, something slips out—a photograph.

My heart stops.

It’s a picture of Liam… and me.

Or at least, she looks like me.

He’s holding her so tenderly, kissing her forehead with a love and sweetness I’ve never seen from him—not even on our wedding day.

But the girl in the photo isn’t me.

Not really.

She’s younger, her smile brighter than anything I’ve ever worn. There’s a warmth between them that I’ve never shared with Liam.

I stare at the photo, my hands trembling.

This girl… this girl who looks exactly like me...

She isn’t me.

She’s someone else entirely.