No Longer Needed

(Clara's POV)

Wendy's hand froze mid-air. In the span of a single heartbeat, everything about her transformed.

Her raised hand flew to her own face. Her shoulders crumpled inward. Her eyes flooded with tears.

"Damien —" she choked out, spinning toward him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to cause trouble. I just came to ask Clara about the ceremony plans, and I... I think I said something wrong. She looked so angry at me and I got scared —"

Her voice cracked with a whimper. "Do you think I'm useless, Damien?"

Damien sighed. The cold edge vanished from his presence in an instant. He cupped Wendy's face in both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm not blaming you." His voice turned low and tender. "It's just a small ancestral ceremony. Don't let it upset you. When we have our official mating ceremony, everything will be exactly the way you want it. I'll give you the most extravagant celebration in the entire Alliance."

Wendy's tears stopped on cue. She looked up, eyes bright. "Really?"

"Really." Damien nodded.

Wendy sniffled, then turned to me. The hurt hadn't quite faded from her face, yet her tone softened to silk. "Damien, I grew up at Red Moon surrounded by servants. I've never had to plan something like a ceremony before. But I want to help with pack affairs... Can you let Clara stay and assist me? Please?"

My nails dug into my palms hard enough to leave marks. She was doing this to humiliate me.

"Done." Damien didn't even glance my way. "Clara, as of today, drop everything else. You'll report to Wendy and assist with the Moonlit Trail preparations until she's satisfied."

I swallowed hard, grinding my teeth until my jaw ached. My lips stayed sealed.

"Clara?" Wendy stepped closer, her head tilted, her expression gentle and confused, as though she genuinely couldn't understand my silence. "Did I say something wrong? I really do want us to work together."

"Clara!" Damien's voice cracked like a whip. "Answer your Luna. Watch your attitude."

I slowly unclenched my jaw. I raised my head, letting my gaze drift past them both to the bare wall at the far end of the hall.

Where our painting had hung. Nothing left now but a few ugly nail holes.

I pulled my eyes back and looked directly into Wendy's calculating gaze. Then I bowed my head slightly.

"I'm sorry." My voice was soft but crystal clear. "I'll take good care of the future Luna. My Luna."

Dead silence.

Damien shoved Wendy aside and crossed the distance to me in two strides. He seized my wrist, his grip nearly crushing the bone.

"What did you just say?" He stared into my eyes, his pupils contracting violently. "You've never apologized before."

He looked stunned—something almost like distortion crossing his features.

Two years ago, several she-wolves from noble bloodlines had mocked me behind my back, calling me "a delusional Omega clinging to the Alpha."

I—a wolfless Omega—had thrown myself at them right then and there. Their claws had shredded my arms to ribbons.

Damien came back from patrol and found the aftermath. Late that night, he sat on the edge of my bed bandaging my wounds. Cold-faced, he'd scolded me: "You're an Omega. Learn some restraint. Did you really think you could beat pureblooded wolves?"

I'd been shaking from the pain, but I didn't speak to him for seven full days. And I never once said I was wrong.

But now, in front of everyone, I'd bowed my head.

I used my free hand to pry his fingers off my wrist, one by one.

I took a deep breath and kept my voice absolutely level. "I was wrong back then. I was wrong to believe that if I worked myself to the bone for you, you'd keep me by your side." I watched his face drain of color. "I was wrong to believe that if I poured everything I had into building this pack, someday you'd actually see me. I was wrong to treat your three-year contract like a promise."

Three more days. The words nearly spilled out. But I swallowed them.

It didn't matter. Three days or a hundred years—he'd already made his choice.

"Damien..." Wendy suddenly wedged herself between us.

She grabbed Damien's arm, her face a mask of panic. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. Please don't fight because of me. I shouldn't have taken over the Moonlit Trail."

Damien snapped back to the present. He glanced at my expressionless face, then looked at Wendy, forcibly burying the shock in his eyes.

"It's fine. Not your fault." Damien patted Wendy's shoulder, his voice slightly stiff. "You're a highborn heir. Your first time dealing with these tedious affairs, and you've done more than enough. Clara was far clumsier than you when she first started. I'm here. Everything will be fine."

I watched Wendy nestle against Damien's chest and caught the split-second flash of triumph at the corner of her mouth.

In that instant, I understood everything. Wendy hadn't come here because she had a problem with my Moonlit Trail plans.

She came to perform—to get Damien to say those tender words, to comfort her, protect her, cherish her right in front of me. She wanted to watch me fall apart.

She wanted jealousy. She wanted me to lose control. She wanted hysteria and a catfight.

Not anymore.

"Alpha, I will return every classified pack document you entrusted to my care." My voice was steady.

"Every authority you ever delegated to me, I surrender in full. Everything the Alpha ever gave me—" I looked into his eyes, "—I will never covet again."

Damien's face went ashen.

"What did you say?" He stared at me.