Titan’s POVThe air in the Wilder pack mansion had been heavier than usual all evening, thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. My wounds were healing, but the ache in my chest had nothing to do with my body, it was deeper, carved from regret, from memories of Kari, from the truth that had gutted me clean when I finally saw Indira for what she was.I had told myself I’d keep my distance from her. Told myself that I needed silence, not more lies. But the sound of muffled laughter drifting from the corridor outside my chambers tugged at something primal in me.It was too late at night for laughter. Too close to my door for it to be innocent.I pushed myself from the chair, ignoring the pull of my half-healed wounds, and stalked toward the sound. My heart began to pound harder with every step, a dull roar filling my ears.The corridor was dim, lit only by a few torches along the walls. And then I saw them.Her.Him.My Indira, my wife, pressed against the wall, her hands tangl
Kari’s POVThe sun had long slipped beneath the horizon when I finally fastened my cloak, its silver clasp catching the last glow of firelight in my chambers. The night stretched before me, heavy with silence, save for the low murmur of voices in the courtyard below where my guards waited.It should have been a routine journey. Just another meeting. Just another night as Alpha of Silvermoon. But my chest was tight, my hands restless, my pulse thrumming louder than the distant drum of hooves being prepared.Because of him.Because of Viktor.The afternoon replayed in my mind in bitter fragments, the way he’d followed me into the study, his voice steady, concerned, asking why I’d been cold all day. Asking what he’d done wrong. As if he didn’t know.I had stood there with my back to him, staring at the shelves lined with dusty tomes, refusing to look at him because if I did, I might crumble.He’d said my name so softly, like a prayer. “Kari.”And I had only shaken my head and whispered
TITAN’S POVThe door slammed behind me, the echo reverberating through the stone hall like a gunshot. I’d barely stepped two paces inside when I felt it, Indira’s rage, thick in the air, almost tangible.She stood in the center of the chamber, eyes wild, her breath coming fast. Shards of glass already glittered across the floor, a broken vase spilling water that soaked into the rug. Her hands trembled, but not from fear. Fury burned through her like wildfire.“You went to her!” she shrieked.I clenched my jaw, every muscle in my body taut. I’d known this was coming the moment I left Silvermoon, the moment I let myself cross the line to see Kari. But even knowing, I wasn’t prepared for the storm now tearing through my home.“Indira,” I began, my voice low, controlled. “Calm down,”She laughed, sharp and bitter, a sound that scraped at my ears. “Calm down? Calm down?! You expect me to sit here, smile, play the dutiful mate while you run back to her like a dog to its master?!”Another
Kari’s POVThe morning was still, the kind of silence that felt heavy rather than peaceful. The mansion seemed too quiet, too tense, as though it sensed the weight pressing on my chest.I had woken early, restless, and wandered to the window in search of fresh air to calm my racing thoughts. What I found instead turned my stomach into knots.There they were, in the garden.Viktor and Zoya.He sat on the stone bench beneath the climbing roses, his body still fragile from healing, his hands clasped loosely in his lap. And she, she leaned toward him, her hair falling like a curtain of midnight, her voice soft and low. I couldn’t hear the words, but I could see the way he smiled faintly, as though her presence soothed him.My hands balled into fists against the windowsill.He should have been with me. He should have been leaning on me for comfort, not her. Not the woman who had already taken so much from both of us.I swallowed hard, my throat burning as a thousand emotions battled in
Kari’s POVI didn’t mean to hear it.But sometimes the universe places you exactly where you’re supposed to be, even if it rips you apart in the process.I had woken in the middle of the night, the sheets beside me cold and empty. At first, I thought Viktor had gone to the bathroom, but when the minutes stretched on, worry pushed me out of bed. I padded down the hall, the silence of the house pressing heavily against me. Then I heard them, his voice, low and raw, and hers, soft and dripping with the kind of familiarity that made my stomach twist.I stopped at the top of the stairs, pressing my hand against the railing as their words floated up in hushed tones.“…she doesn’t trust you, Viktor.”Zoya’s voice, soothing, careful.And then his. My husband’s voice, weighted with guilt. “I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”I froze. The rest of their conversation blurred into fragments that stabbed at me like needles.Zoya reminding him of their past. Zoya whispering about loyalty. Vi
Zoya’s POVThe mansion was quiet. Too quiet.I padded barefoot down the stairs, the stone steps cool against my skin. Sleep had abandoned me long ago, chased off by thoughts that crawled across my mind like restless insects. The house was too large, too filled of people who did not want me here. I felt it in every glance, every stiff smile, every muttered whisper that ceased the moment I entered a room.But I was not here for them.I reached the kitchen and poured water into a cup, watching the ripples shimmer faintly in the moonlight that spilled through the small window. I lifted the cup halfway to my lips when I heard it.Footsteps.Slow and heavyI froze for a moment before turning, my heart quickening. The faint glow from the torches in the hallway revealed him. Viktor.He looked… broken. His shoulders slumped as if the weight of the entire world pressed against them. His hair, usually so carefully tied back, fell in dark strands around his face. His eyes carried shadows da