CHAPTER 3

Chapter 3

Morana’s POV

I raised my gaze towards Logan, his eyes brimming solemnly. He was deep in his thoughts. That’s the look in his eyes I could never overlook.

“What do we do?” Vincent asked. His gaze shifted between the two of us.

Logan stood up from the bed and turned towards his Beta.

“Who is she, exactly?” he muttered unknowingly.

“She’s Violet Harrison, daughter of the Hallow Hunter’s pack,” Vincent simply replied, and that single sentence said it all.

Their pack name speaks for themselves, like where I came from. They were known hunters. Unlike us warriors who were driven by principles, discipline, and rules, they were driven by goals.

Once they set eyes on their prey, they’d do anything to kill or achieve it.

I sneered. So, not only was she from a powerful pack, but she was also the Alpha’s daughter.

Way to make me feel even more unfit for Logan.

Vincent interrupted as I was about to shake my head to burn that thought.

“We’re going to fight, right?” Looking at me with those determined and hopeful eyes, he asked again, “Right?”

Fisting my hands so tight that my nails dipped in my palms, I could only look away.

“Every warrior of our pack is willing to fight with us! We can’t just let them trample everyone down with this simple threat,” Vincent added, justifying his words.

I stared at him, patriotism in his eyes.

“Vincent . . .” I mumble, my heart warming at his words.

“We’re all willing to fight for you here, Luna Morana.” His lips curved slightly. I looked away before everything could get emotional.

I never thought they were all that loyal to me.

As a heart-wrenching suggestion as it was, a fight was nowhere near an option. Casualties could break out — the entire pack would suffer, especially the youngsters.

“Vincent, it’s just—we can’t have any more people dying when this could be prevented,” I mumble, looking up at Logan as I emphasize the word ‘prevented’.

Yes, this could be stopped -- this potential war would end once Logan accepts his fated mate and threw me aside.

My mind wandered back to yesterday's kiss and Logan's closeness to having her right there, and doubts instantly brewed inside of me.

Was he really capable of rejecting her when it seemed as though a simple kiss from her would never be enough to satisfy himself?

“You’re thinking too much again.” I look down at my hand, which Logan held. The warmth it carried instantly pushed all the worrying thoughts to the back of my head.

He smiled at me. His teal eyes carried assurance in them.

“Beta Vincent—” With a stern voice, he commanded, “Go and tell them I will talk to the elders about this tomorrow morning.”

Vincent left with a nod, and the room was once again covered in silence. We stared at each other and the three years we’ve shared flashed right back into his eyes, as though I was seeing it again in retrospect.

I couldn’t lose all of that.

“Morana, whatever it is you’re thinking—it will never happen. I’ll reject her and kick her out of this pack. Out of your sight — out of everyone’s sight.” He tucked a stray hair covering my face.

I didn’t even know what to think about this situation. It’s like battling with the world itself . . . for things I greedily want. For the love, I could never have.

I squeezed his hand in mine as though it would be the last time I’d ever do it.

“That woman is your mate, Logan. Your real mate, destined to you by the Moon Goddess,” I gritted my teeth, looking away as hopeless tears slid down my eyes. I instantly wipe them away.

I was never this pathetic over another girl. I tell myself that. However, something in me was chanting that we all know she’s not just another girl. She will never be just another girl.

“Morana, it’s you I want. It will always be you,” he whispered, his teal eyes penetrating through all my thoughts as he pulled my face towards his and gently kissed my forehead…

“Ah!” I shouted, beads of cold sweat dripping on my forehead as I abruptly sat up on the bed, awoken by excruciating pain.

I thrashed around as I tried to get a hold of myself. “Ah! Fuck . . .” I tried to catch my breath, feeling my lungs malfunctioning.

I gripped the bedpost as the pain struck another wave. The pain was demanding to be felt. Like a hot boiling water was poured right into my chest and through my heart.

“Logan!” I yelled, my throat burning as I searched for the only person who could give me any sense of comfort, but he was nowhere to be found.

I clawed onto my nightgown, trying to rip it off my chest.

“Please, whatever this is, make it stop.” I silently begged.

“Agh! Please, Logan!” Tears brimmed down my face as another wave of pain rushed. This time, it was as though I was getting burned.

What was this?

I tried to remember what I ate at George’s wedding. I smelled shrimp soup, wine, and flowers, yet nothing came to mind that could cause this.

All until my mind drifted back to my last moments before falling asleep. I was in the hands of Logan.

“Morana, a mate’s touch is comfort. But a mate’s touch to another is suffering. Do not ever forget that.”

My eyes widened at the realization of what my aunt once said to me.

Of course! Who was I kidding? I believed everything he said last night, and here he was, with the exact girl he told me not to worry about.

I closed my eyes, waiting for a pain so much worse than earlier. A deadly pain once he marks and mates with his fated mate.

I lay down on the bed, grunts coming out of my lips. The moment I’d feel that specific burn, the burn where it may tell me if he had finally fallen to the lust their mate bond was pulling, I knew it would be the end of the both of us.

And so I patiently wait. Waited for the painful truth of my mate’s betrayal.