Damon
"I want a divorce."
The words hit me like a punch. Evelyn stood there, her eyes hard in a way I'd never seen before. The woman who always forgave me, who always came back, was gone.
I stepped toward her, trying to hide my surprise. "You want a divorce?" I tried to sound mocking. "No. You're just trying to get my attention. It's not working."
She didn't react the way I expected. No tears. No begging. She just shifted the baby carrier to her other hand, her knuckles white from gripping it too hard.
"I can't be with a cheater who didn't care about my pain when he slept with my sister." Her voice broke on the last word.
She started hitting my chest with weak punches. I let her. Her fists barely hurt, but each one landed somewhere deeper.
"Why are you so upset when you cheated first?" I caught her wrist. It felt small in my hand, birdlike. I remembered holding it the first time we met, how perfectly it had fit.
Something stuck in my throat. I swallowed hard.
"Wasn't I enough for you?" I hadn't meant to ask that.
She looked up at me, anger giving way to disbelief. "I didn't cheat on you," she said quietly. "I can't prove it, but you have to believe me."
For a split second, I almost did. There was something in her eyes—the same honest look from when we first met. But then the photos flashed in my mind again.
The images I couldn't unsee. Her birthmark just below her shoulder blade. The curve of her hip that I knew so well. That stranger's hands on her breasts, his mouth on the spot where I'd placed my mark. Her head thrown back, eyes closed.
I'd stared at those pictures for hours after Susan brought them to me, drinking until I couldn't feel the pain. How many times had Evelyn been with me just like that? How many times had she told me I was her only one?
And now she stood here, lying to my face.
"I can't believe you." I stepped back, pointing at the mess of photos on the floor. "Not with those pictures showing me our whole relationship was fake."
I walked to my desk, keeping my back to her so she wouldn't see my hands shake. I shoved them in my pockets.
"Meet me in court," I said over my shoulder. "Tomorrow. Ten o'clock."
I walked out without looking back, passing Susan in the hallway. She reached for my arm but I pulled away. I needed air.
Outside, I loosened my tie, breathing in deep. The sky was too bright, too blue. Like the day at the lake when I'd first told Evelyn I loved her.
Pull yourself together, Damon.
I had a pack to run. A woman who actually wanted me. I didn't need Evelyn's tears or lies. I didn't need the small voice in my head asking: What if she's telling the truth?
The crowd outside the packhouse courtroom parted as I approached, heads bowing in deference to their Alpha. Inside, the elders had already assembled, along with both our sets of parents. My father nodded grimly. My mother wouldn't meet my eyes.
Evelyn hadn't arrived yet. I paced the length of the chamber, energy I couldn't dispel crackling through my limbs.
"Are you certain about this, son?" My father's voice was low enough that only I could hear.
I gave him a sharp look. "You've seen the evidence."
He sighed, a sound that carried the weight of his years. "I've seen photographs. I've also seen the way that girl looks at you. Never known a better Luna for this pack."
"She betrayed me," I snapped. "Betrayed all of us."
He held up his hands in surrender, backing away. Still acting like he knew better, as always. As if I hadn't been running this pack successfully for years now.
A murmur rippled through the crowd. I turned to see Evelyn entering, her head held high despite the whispers that followed her. Her gaze swept the room, landing briefly on her parents before settling on me. No tears today. No pleading. Just that same cold resolve I'd seen in my office.
She'd worn the formal Luna robes, deep blue with silver embroidery at the hem. The traditional dress of a mated female Alpha. I wondered if it was her way of reminding everyone of her position, of what she stood to lose.
She moved to her designated place across from me, her steps measured and slow. We faced each other across the ceremonial circle inlaid in the stone floor.
The head elder stepped forward, his voice carrying to the farthest corners of the room. "Alpha Damon has called this council to formally address accusations against Luna Evelyn. The Alpha will now present his judgment."
I'd rehearsed this speech a dozen times since yesterday. Had the words ready. But standing there, looking at Evelyn's pale face, the woman I'd once sworn to protect, the words seemed to dry up in my throat.
I forced them out anyway. "Luna Evelyn has betrayed the trust of her Alpha and her pack. She has violated her mate bond and brought dishonor to her position."
A ripple went through the assembled crowd. Evelyn's mother let out a small sound of distress.
"For these offenses, I hereby demote her from the rank of Luna to—" I hesitated, just for a second. Say it, Damon. "To warrior."
Gasps echoed through the chamber. Everyone understood what this meant—from the second highest position in the pack to one of the lowest ranks. From standing beside me in all decisions to taking orders from nearly everyone else.
* * *
EvelynThe next morning, I sat beside Catherine's bed, checking her pulse periodically as she slept. Her breathing was steady, natural. The fainting episode had passed without complications, but I knew the underlying cause was far more serious than anyone realized.Footsteps in the hallway made me look up. Margaret appeared in the doorway, and the sight of her made my stomach clench with rage. The memory of her cruel words to Ava, the satisfaction on her face as she'd destroyed a five-year-old's world, flooded back. For a moment, I imagined my hands around her throat.I forced my expression into professional neutrality."How is she?" Margaret asked, approaching the bed. Her tone was cold, dismissive - clearly she hadn't forgotten our last encounter either."Stable. She should wake up soon," I responded, keeping my voice carefully neutral.Margaret moved closer to the bed, deliberately ignoring me as she studied Catherine's face. "What exactly happened? Damon said she just collapsed."
EvelynI stood frozen as Damon cradled Catherine's unconscious form. She'd been pointing at me, whispering about the resemblance between Ava and me. It was barely audible, but the recognition in her eyes had been unmistakable before she collapsed.My mind raced through my options. Catherine's behavior since arriving suddenly made complete sense - the memory lapses, the confusion, the way she'd forgotten her own research, couldn't remember making specific medical claims.Catherine had cognitive decline. And knowing her pride, she would never admit such weakness. That's why something this serious had gone unnoticed and untreated.I had two choices. I could gamble that when Catherine woke up, she wouldn't remember what triggered her collapse - which, given her condition, was highly likely. Or I could take Ava and run right now, while everyone was focused on the medical emergency.I looked at Ava, who stood pressed against the wall with wide, frightened eyes. Taking her meant explaining e
SusanI watched with satisfaction as Mother moved around my room, gathering medical supplies and setting up her equipment. She'd already thrown Dr. Graham's herbal compounds into the waste bin, muttering about "amateur remedies" under her breath.This was exactly what I'd been waiting for. Mother finally taking an active role in my treatment, which meant our plan could finally move forward."Don't worry, my dear baby," Mother said, checking my pulse with professional efficiency. "I'll have you feeling better in no time."I paused. "Mother, you keep calling me that. You never called me that before."Mother looked up, confused. "That's not true. I've always called you that when you were little."But I knew that wasn't true. Mother was never close to us as children. She was distant, focused on her work, only showing warmth toward Evelyn because they shared medical interests. I'd always been on the sidelines, watching my sister get Mother's attention and approval. When had Mother ever ref
EvelynI received the summons to Damon's office with a mixture of relief and dread. At least I had a chance to defend my position, but facing both Damon and Catherine together felt like walking into a trap.When I arrived, I found Catherine already seated across from Damon's desk, looking composed and confident. Damon gestured for me to take the other chair."Dr. Graham, Dr. Winters has some concerns about your treatment approach for Susan," Damon began diplomatically. "I'd like to hear your response before making any decisions."A small spark of hope flickered in my chest. Damon had warned me about Catherine before. The fact that he'd called me here to get my side of the story instead of just accepting Catherine's dismissal meant something. Maybe he'd give me at least a little support.Catherine leaned forward immediately. "The treatment protocol is completely inadequate. Susan needs targeted enzyme therapy, not herbal remedies that mask symptoms without addressing the underlying gen
CatherineI strode through the pack house corridors. That visiting doctor needed to be dealt with properly, and I needed to formalize my authority over Susan's medical care.I found Damon's office and didn't bother knocking. He was reviewing pack business with Cole, papers spread across his desk."We need to discuss Susan's medical situation," I announced, settling into the chair across from his desk without waiting for an invitation.Damon looked up, slightly annoyed at the interruption. "I thought you were handling that with Dr. Graham.""I've dismissed Dr. Graham. Her treatment approach is completely inadequate for Susan's condition."Cole glanced between us. "Dismissed her? Don't you think that's—""What I think," I cut him off, "is that my daughter was being treated with amateur hour herbalism when she needs proper medical intervention."Damon set down his pen. "Dr. Graham seemed competent. Susan's condition has improved since she started treatment.""Improved?" I leaned forward.
EvelynI walked through the corridor in a daze, my medical bag feeling heavier with each step. The weight of it seemed to pull at my shoulder, dragging me down.I found an empty consultation room and slipped inside, locking the door behind me. I needed a moment to process what had just happened.Catherine had dismissed my treatment as "kitchen remedies" and "completely inadequate." She'd acted like I was some amateur playing with herbs I didn't understand.But that made no sense.I set my bag down on the small table and stared at it. Every technique I'd used, every herbal compound in Susan's treatment, had come directly from Catherine's own research. My mother had been the one to teach me that these genetic conditions responded better to natural compounds than synthetic alternatives when properly calibrated."Natural compounds bond more effectively with the genetic markers," she'd explained during one of our rare mother-daughter sessions when I was studying. "Synthetic alternatives cr