Chapter 5

“Ma’am… ma’am, it’s late. You’re the only one left here.”

Someone tapped my shoulder, dragging me abruptly out of sleep. I frowned, disoriented, my lashes fluttering open as the dim lights above me came into focus. The first thing I saw was a woman standing in front of me, arms folded, concern mixed with mild irritation on her face.

The bartender.

Wait, bartender?

My heart skipped. No. That couldn’t be right.

I stiffened, my body suddenly aware of itself in the most unsettling way. My head throbbed painfully, as if someone had been pounding a hammer against my skull for hours. Worse, my body ached in places that made heat crawl up my spine, a dull soreness lingering between my thighs, too real, too vivid.

What the hell?

I jerked upright on the bar stool, gripping my head tightly as fragments of images rushed through my mind, dark roads, expensive leather seats, the unmistakable roar of a Lamborghini engine. The twins. Their laughter. Their hands. Their breath on my skin.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

No. I had been with them. I knew I had.

“Wait,” I muttered, panic seeping into my voice. “How… how am I here?”

The bartender stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Here?” she echoed. “You’ve been here all night. You drank more alcohol than your body could handle. I warned you to slow down, but you didn’t listen.”

She shook her head, clearly unimpressed.

My eyes widened in horror.

All night?

My chest tightened as the realization slammed into me with brutal force. The twins. The car. The heat. The chaos. Every single sinful, humiliating detail—

It was all a dream.

“What the f—” I whispered under my breath, cutting myself off as shame flooded me so fast it felt like my skin might combust. I glanced around the bar, desperate for any sign that what I remembered had been real.

Nothing.

The chairs were stacked. The lights were dimmed. The place was silent.

I was alone.

Holy shit.

My cheeks burned violently, embarrassment curling deep in my stomach. I reached for my phone with trembling fingers, unable to meet the bartender’s eyes. What kind of twisted, reckless dream was that? And why did it feel so real, too real?

I swallowed hard, disgust churning inside me.

Even if I wanted revenge against Lucien, even if I wanted to pay him back in his own cruel coin, I would never stoop so low. Never use those devilish, arrogant, bully twins. The mere thought of them now made my stomach twist.

I don’t know why my mind betrayed me like that.

Why them?

I closed my eyes, exhaling shakily as guilt and confusion wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket. Whatever that dream was, I wanted it gone from my head forever.

Because the sight of them, real or imagined, disgusted me.

I searched blindly for my phone, my head pounding as if someone was striking it with a hammer. When my fingers finally brushed against cold glass, I found it lying on the table beside me. I grabbed it, squinting at the screen.

Fifteen missed calls.

All from Sierra.

A bitter laugh slipped from my lips. Great. Just great.

I had promised myself I wouldn’t get drunk. I had sworn—on my pride, on my sanity—that I wouldn’t let myself sink this low again. But promises were fragile things, easily shattered when your entire world crumbles in a single moment.

My life felt like a waste. Every sacrifice, every sleepless night, every tear I shed for Lucien—it had all been meaningless. He never loved me. Never wanted me. I was just a convenient shield, someone he could hide behind while living his truth elsewhere.

I staggered to my feet, my legs weak, my body heavy as I stumbled toward the door. The room spun, and before I could stop myself, the image flashed vividly in my mind—Lucien with her. My so-called sister. The betrayal replayed like a cruel nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.

My stomach churned violently.

“That hoe,” I muttered, my hands clenching into fists. Rage burned through me, hot and uncontrollable. If she had always wanted him, why didn’t she take him back then? Why did she push him into my arms? Why let me believe the lie that I was chosen?

I laughed again, but this time there was no humor in it—only pain.

“Yola?” I whispered hoarsely, calling out to my wolf as I staggered outside, the cold night air brushing against my skin. “Yola, are you there?”

Silence.

That scared me more than anything else.

Yola had never been silent—not even during my darkest moments. She was my strength, my anchor. But now, she was gone, retreating into herself, wounded beyond words.

And why wouldn’t she be?

The man she had accepted as her mate had crushed us without hesitation. Tossed us aside like we were nothing.

The only prayer I'm praying to the moon goddess is that I don't lose her!

Without her I'm useless and won't be able to anything!

Without her I'm a lifeless and powerless.

“And now she’s pregnant?” I scoffed bitterly, shaking my head. “What a joke.”

Lucien was a fool. A blind, arrogant fool.

All those years… all those times I stood by him, protecting his secret, swallowing my pride to preserve his image. He never knew. Never suspected that the reason he couldn’t mark me wasn’t fate—but him.

He was infertile.

The truth tasted sharp and satisfying on my tongue, even as my chest ached. The child growing in Talia’s womb wasn’t his. I knew that. Deep down, I had always known.

But I wouldn’t expose him. Not now.

No, I would wait.

I would wait patiently. Smile quietly. Watch carefully.

And when that child was born, when the truth could no longer hide in the shadows…

The real fun would begin.

Despite the heaviness weighing on my chest, I forced myself to keep moving until I reached the road. Each step felt like punishment, my limbs weak, my head still pounding from the alcohol and the storm of emotions raging inside me. The night air was cold against my skin, but it did nothing to clear my thoughts.

A taxi’s headlights cut through the darkness, approaching slowly. I raised my hand with what little strength I had left. Almost immediately, the car slowed and pulled over beside me, its tires scraping softly against the asphalt.

The driver leaned across the seat, studying me through the open window. “Where to, ma’am?”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Briton Suite Hotel, please,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, using the last of my strength.