The Public Execution

The morning sun felt like a mockery. I woke up in Xander’s bed, my body aching in ways that made my wolf hum with a misplaced sense of victory. The sheets still smelled of us. For a few beautiful, delusional seconds, I thought the world had changed. I thought the Blood Moon had finally washed away the hate in his heart.

Then I saw him.

Xander was already dressed, standing by the mirror as he fastened his Alpha insignia to his collar. He looked at me through the reflection, his eyes as cold as a winter morning. There was no trace of the man who had held me so tightly last night.

"Get dressed," he said. "There’s a pack assembly in ten minutes. You need to be there."

"Xander," I started, sitting up and clutching the duvet to my chest. "About last night... I thought..."

"Don't," he snapped, finally turning to face me. "Last night was a biological necessity. Nothing more. Don't go making up fairy tales in that empty head of yours."

My heart did a slow, painful somersault. "But we bonded. You felt it."

"I felt the moon, Tricia. Not you." He walked toward the door, not even giving me a second glance. "Be at the dais in ten minutes. If you’re late, Sancho will come find you. And he won't be gentle."

I dressed in the only clean tunic I had, my hands shaking so much I could barely tie the laces. I followed the sound of the pack’s murmurs to the central courtyard. Hundreds of wolves were gathered, their eyes turning toward me as I approached. Some looked at me with curiosity, but most held the same familiar sneer.

Xander stood on the raised platform, flanked by Jack and Sancho. Fabiana was there too, standing remarkably close to him, wearing a triumphant smile that made my stomach turn.

Xander raised his hand, and the crowd went silent.

"As you all know," Xander’s voice boomed, carrying to every corner of the courtyard. "The Blood Moon has passed. The elders insisted on a union to honor the old contracts. To appease the laws of our ancestors."

He looked down at me. I felt a spark of hope. Maybe he was going to say he’d keep me. Maybe he was going to say I was his.

"But I am the Alpha of this pack," Xander continued, his voice growing harder. "And I refuse to let the past dictate my future. I will not have my bloodline tainted by the daughter of a traitor. I will not be tethered to a weak Omega who has no place by my side."

The air left my lungs.

"I, Xander Blackwood, Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack, officially and permanently reject Tricia Thorne as my mate and my Luna," he declared.

A collective gasp went through the crowd. The rejection hit me like a physical blade, a searing pain radiating from my heart through every nerve in my body. I stumbled back, my hand flying to my chest as I let out a choked sob.

"The contract is null and void," Xander added, looking at me with absolute indifference. "You are no longer betrothed. You are nothing but a common servant of this pack. Dismissed."

He turned his back on me and started talking to Jack as if I didn't even exist. As if he hadn't just shattered my entire soul in front of everyone I knew.

I turned and ran. I didn't know where I was going, I just knew I had to get away from the staring eyes and the muffled laughter. But I didn't get far.

A hand caught my arm, spinning me around. It was Fabiana. She had followed me into the corridor, and she wasn't alone. Two of her friends were with her, blocking my path.

"Oh, look at the little princess," Fabiana mocked, her voice dripping with venom. "Did you really think one night in his bed would make him forget what a piece of trash you are?"

"Leave me alone, Fabiana," I whispered, trying to push past her.

She shoved me back against the stone wall. "He told me everything, Tricia. He told me how much he hated touching you. He said he had to close his eyes just to get through it."

The lie stung worse than the rejection. "You’re lying."

"Am I?" Fabiana stepped closer, her eyes gleaming. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, silk ribbon. It was the one I had used to tie my hair back last night. "He gave me this this morning. He told me to throw it in the trash along with any memory of you."

She dropped the ribbon and ground it into the dirt with her heel. Then, she leaned in, whispering in my ear. "He’s taking me to the Black Ridge tonight. To the spot where he was going to take his 'real' Luna. You’re just the mistake he had to fix."

Her friends laughed, and one of them reached out, dumping a cup of cold, sticky juice over my head.

"You smell like rejection, Omega," the girl laughed. "It’s a much better scent on you than the Alpha’s."

I stood there, dripping and broken, as they walked away laughing. The pain was too much. The humiliation was a weight I couldn't carry anymore. I didn't go back to my room. I didn't go to the kitchens.

I ran toward the pack borders. The guards let me through, probably because they had orders that I wasn't worth stopping anymore. I kept running until my lungs burned and my legs gave out.

I found myself in the small, human town on the edge of our territory. It was a place wolves rarely went, full of neon lights and the smell of exhaust. I saw a sign for a dive bar called The Rusty Nail.

I pushed through the door, the dim light and the smell of stale beer welcoming me. I didn't care that I looked like a mess. I didn't care that my eyes were red and swollen.

I sat at the bar and slammed a few crumpled bills onto the wood.

"Give me the strongest thing you have," I told the bartender. "And don't stop until I tell you to."

"Rough day, honey?" the bartender asked, pouring a shot of dark amber liquid.

"You have no idea," I muttered, knocking the drink back. It burned, but it wasn't nearly as painful as the hole in my chest.

I sat there for an hour, the alcohol starting to blur the edges of the nightmare. I was on my third glass of whiskey when the stool next to me moved.

"You look like you’re trying to drown a very large ghost," a deep, smooth voice said.

I turned my head slowly. A man was sitting there. He wasn't from my pack. He wasn't even a wolf I recognized. He was handsome, in a dangerous, polished way. He wore an expensive suit that looked wildly out of place in this bar.

"I’m drowning a whole pack of them," I slurred, looking back at my drink. "Go away."

"I don't think I will," he said, sliding a clean glass toward the bartender. "My name is Tristan.

I froze. Tristan. The name sounded familiar, a name whispered in the dark corners of the Alpha’s office. The Alpha of the rival Shadow Pack.