Served on a Platter

Dahlia’s P.O.V

I stood outside the door, staring at the ornate carvings like they were going to open up and swallow me whole. My fists were clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms, but I didn’t feel the sting. All I could hear, over and over and over again—was her. The sharp gasp, the moan that didn’t belong to me, the muffled groan of the man I once thought would protect me from the world.

Cade. My husband. My supposed mate. I could hear the bed creaking rhythmically, like a cruel metronome mocking me with every thrust.

It felt like a scene out of someone else’s nightmare, not mine. A year ago, I had everything. My parents, alive. My title—respected. And Cade... Cade used to look at me like I hung the damn stars. He used to kiss my forehead and tell me he’d kill for me. Now I was the discarded shadow outside his door, waiting while he made a show of ruining what little pride I had left.

Then, the door opened. Cade stepped out, still tucking his shirt in like he’d just returned from a stroll instead of screwing his maid while his wife stood outside like a loyal mutt. He barely glanced at me, like I was just another piece of furniture in the hallway.

"She needs help fixing her dress," he said, jerking his chin toward the room behind him. "Go inside and help her look presentable before the party."

I stared at him, blinking slowly. "You want me to dress your whore?" My voice didn’t even shake. I didn’t let it. Not for him.

His eyes snapped to mine, lips twitching with a mockery of a smile. “Don’t test me, Dahlia.”

“No.” I folded my arms across my chest, jaw tight. “I’m still your wife, not your servant. I won’t touch her.”

His hand flew so fast I barely saw it, but I damn well felt it. The sting echoed across my face, heat blooming under my skin as my head jerked to the side. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even let out a sound. I just turned my face back slowly, meeting his eyes like the slap hadn’t done what he wanted it to.

He stepped closer, breath hot and laced with arrogance. “The days of me following you around like a lovesick dog are over. You remember that. I’m the Alpha now. And you—” he grabbed my chin, squeezing hard until it hurt, “—you are only here because I allow it.”

I yanked my face away from his grip. “Then throw me out,” I hissed. “If you’re so powerful, so free, then why keep me around? Why humiliate me instead of letting me go?”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest as he leaned back. “Because watching you break like this?” He smiled, and it was the ugliest thing I’d ever seen.

“It’s satisfying. You think I forgot how you used to act like you were too good for everyone? Like the world had to kneel at your feet because you were the daughter of an Alpha? Now look at you—nothing. No title. No power. Just a pretty face with nowhere to go.”

“You disgust me,” I spat.

He shrugged. “Good. That means you’re still feeling something. You should be thankful I haven’t thrown you out yet. And if you keep pushing me, Dahlia…” His smile sharpened. “I just might.”

Then he turned and walked down the hall like he hadn’t just reduced me to nothing with a single slap and a few words. I stood there, my cheek throbbing, my pride in tatters—but I didn’t cry. Not yet.

Let him have his power trip. Let him think he’s won.

Because I wasn’t broken.

Not yet.

I didn’t want to go in there. I swear, I stood outside the damn door for a good five minutes just staring at the handle, debating if I should turn back and let her sit in there and rot with her half-laced gown and smug little smirk. But Cade had ordered me. Help her get dressed, he said, like I was a maid, not his Luna. Be useful for once. Those were his exact words.

I wanted to slap him. But I swallowed it. I always swallowed it. That’s what I’d become. A woman full of swallowed pain and pride.

So I opened the door.

Amara was sitting at the vanity like she owned the whole damn house. She barely glanced at me through the mirror, just lifted her chin slightly, like she’d been expecting me to come crawling.

“Finally," she muttered, brushing her fingers through those fake golden waves of hers. "This dress won’t lace itself, you know."

I didn’t answer. Just walked up behind her and picked up the ribbon. My fingers moved on autopilot, pulling, tightening, knotting. I’d done this for myself a thousand times, and now I was doing it for her. The woman my husband snuck off to in the middle of the night, thinking I didn’t hear the creak of the floorboards or the way the door closed softer than it ever did with me.

She sighed dramatically. "Don’t pull it too tight. I have to breathe, you know. For the baby."

My hands froze mid-pull.

"What?" I asked, even though I heard her clearly.

She turned slightly, just enough for me to see the gleam in her eyes, the smugness dripping off her like sweat. Then, with one delicate hand, she shifted the dress aside just beneath her chest and pressed a palm to the slight but visible bulge beneath her corset.

"I’m pregnant, Dahlia," she said sweetly. "With his child."

I didn’t breathe.

"Three months now," she went on, eyes locked on mine. "Cade says as soon as the baby is born, he’ll make it official. I’ll be Luna. You’ll... well." She shrugged with mock pity. "You’ll find somewhere else to go. I hear the border lands are peaceful this time of year."

I stepped back. If I hadn’t, I might’ve strangled her with the same ribbon I’d just used to tie up her precious little dress. She turned around fully then, standing and smoothing her skirt like she was already being fitted for a crown.

"Don’t look so shocked, Dahlia," she said. "You knew this was coming. Cade and I... we were always meant to be. You were just a temporary placeholder. A warm bed and a quiet tongue."

I bit down so hard on the inside of my cheek I tasted blood. But I smiled. I smiled.

"Well then," I said, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeve. "Let’s not keep the crowd waiting, shall we? The future Luna must be presented."

The walk to the grand hall was excruciating. Cade met us halfway, eyes going straight to her, completely skipping over me like I was just another piece of furniture. His hand found hers, not mine, and he leaned down to whisper something into her ear that made her giggle like a damn schoolgirl. I followed behind them like a ghost, like a woman already forgotten. Around us, whispers began to stir. I saw eyes flicker, heard the faint rustle of silk as some of the elders leaned in to gossip.

And I was just standing there. Watching. Swallowing.

"Fix your posture, Dahlia," Cade said without even turning around. "You look like a sulking child."

I clenched my fists. The rage in me was burning hotter than ever before. This couldn’t go on. This humiliation. This... dismissal. I was Luna. Still Luna. And if they thought they could just toss me aside like some forgotten toy, they had another thing coming.

I force a smile, playing the role of the dutiful wife. But my mind races with thoughts of vengeance and anger. They planned on throwing me out of my own pack, and I needed to stop that from happening at any cost.

I mingle with the guests, exchanging pleasantries and laughter, all the while my anger expands. Cade and Amara's displays of affection grew more brazen. They dance together, laughing and whispering sweet nothings.

My vision narrows, focusing solely on the pair. I see nothing else, hear nothing else. Rage pulses through my veins, pounding in my temples. Cade's eyes meet mine, his gaze challenging. Amara's smile grows wider, her eyes flashing with malice. I feel my face heat with humiliation, my anger boiling over.

Suddenly, the music ceases, and the crowd falls silent. A low, resonant voice booms through the hall, "The Alpha King has arrived."

The grand doors swing open, and a commanding presence draws my attention. A man strides into the hall, his dark red hair a fiery mane that frames his chiseled features. Vibrant green eyes scan the room, piercing through the crowd.

His broad shoulders and powerful build exudes authority, and the air seems to vibrate with his energy. The room holds its collective breath as he enters. I watch, transfixed, as he moves with confident strides, his presence commanding attention.

The Alpha King's arrival shifts the atmosphere, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. His gaze sweeps the room, taking in every detail.

Cade and Amara's display of affection suddenly seems tacky, and I sense a flicker of unease from them. But my focus remains on the Alpha King, his powerful presence captivating me.

And right then, his eyes meet mine from across the room, and my breath whooshes out of my lungs in a shallow gasp.