CHAPTER 2

Amelia’s POV

I stumbled backward from the door, my legs shaking. I clutched the velvet pouch tighter in my fist.

I couldn't breathe. The sounds from his room followed me down the hallway, her moans, his growls, the bed creaking faster and faster. My chest burned like someone had shoved hot coals inside it.

I ran.

My bare feet slapped against the cold stone as I fled to my room. I slammed the door and pressed my back against it, sliding down until I hit the floor. My whole body shook.

He was with her. On our anniversary. While I was planning our dinner, arranging flowers, dreaming of how tonight would fix everything, he was fucking the maid.

The image burned behind my eyes. His hands on her hips. Her legs wrapped around him. The way he moved with such hunger, such need. He never touched me like that anymore.

I wiped my cheeks. When had I started crying?

I sat there for what felt like hours, staring at nothing. The sun was setting outside my window, painting the room orange and red. I had to go. He would be expecting me at the cliff.

But something had shifted inside me. The hurt was still there, but underneath it burned something else. Anger. Pure, white-hot anger.

I wasn't going to pretend anymore. I wasn't going to dress for him or smile for him or be what he wanted me to be. I'm done pretending.

I got up and walked to my wardrobe. Instead of the deep blue dress he loved, I pulled out the emerald green one with the flowing sleeves. The one he'd once said was "too bold" for a luna. The one that made me feel powerful.

I slipped it on and looked at myself in the mirror. Then I reached up and pulled out every pin from my hair, letting the dark waves cascade down my back. Wild and free.

No braids tonight. No careful arrangements to please him.

The velvet pouch sat heavy in my palm. I should throw it away, but instead I tucked it into my dress pocket. Not because I still planned to give it to him, but because it was mine. My choice. My decision what to do with it.

My reflection looked different now. Not hollow. Not trying to please anyone.

I looked like myself.

The walk to Moonfang cliff felt endless. My feet knew the path by heart, but tonight every step felt heavy. The lanterns I'd arranged earlier glowed softly in the growing darkness. The flowers Elena had picked looked perfect in their arrangements. The table was set beautifully with our best silver.

Lars was already there, standing at the cliff's edge with his hands behind his back. The wind moved through his hair. He turned when he heard my footsteps.

"Amelia." His voice was warm, gentle. "You look beautiful."

He walked over and cupped my face with both hands. His touch was soft, loving. He pressed his lips to my forehead and lingered there.

"Happy anniversary, my love."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit him. Instead, I smiled.

"Happy anniversary."

He pulled out my chair like a perfect gentleman. The food smelled amazing, the cook had outdone herself. The wine was the expensive kind we saved for special occasions.

"This is incredible," Lars said, cutting into the roasted boar. "You thought of everything."

"I wanted tonight to be special."

"It is. You are." He reached across the table and took my hand. "I'm sorry about this morning. I was stressed about pack business."

His thumb traced circles on my skin. The same hands that had gripped Marta's hips.

I stared at our joined hands. My heart was racing so fast I thought it might explode.

"Pack business," I repeated.

"You know how it is. Alpha duties never end." He squeezed my hand. "But tonight is just about us."

Just about us. While the smell of her perfume probably still clung to his skin.

"Lars."

"Yes?"

I looked up at him. Really looked. His brown eyes were warm, crinkled at the corners like he was happy. His smile was soft and genuine. He looked like the man I fell in love with five years ago.

But I knew what I saw.

"I went to your room earlier."

His hand went still on mine. "Did you? I must have been out."

"You weren't out."

Something flickered in his eyes. "Amelia..."

"I saw you." My voice was steady, but my whole body felt like it was vibrating. "I saw you with her."

He let go of my hand and leaned back in his chair. "I don't know what you think you saw..."

"I saw you fucking Marta."

The words hung in the air between us. Lars was quiet for a long moment, his face unreadable.

"You're imagining things."

"I heard her screaming your name. I heard you calling her a dirty slut. Did I imagine that?" My voice cracked. "The same voice that was cold to me this morning."

"Amelia, stop."

"How long?" I stood up, my chair scraping against the stone. "How long have you been with her?"

"There is no her. You're being paranoid."

"Don't lie to me!" The words exploded out of me. "I know what I saw!"

Lars stood too, his jaw tight. "Fine. Yes, I was with her. So what?"

The casual way he said it hit me like a slap. "So what?"

"You act like it matters."

"It's our anniversary!"

"And?" He shrugged. "You think that changes anything?"

I stared at him. This couldn't be real. "Lars, I'm your mate. Your wife."

He laughed. Actually laughed. "My wife? You're nothing but a failed luna who can't even give me an heir."

Each word was a knife in my chest. "That's not my fault..."

"Isn't it? Five years, Amelia. Five years of disappointment."

"You said you loved me and you'll wait no matter how long."

"I lied." His voice was flat, emotionless. "I never loved you. I only wanted you for your bloodline."

I felt the ground shift under my feet. "My bloodline? My parents were ordinary wolves..."

"Were they?" His smile was cruel now. "You really don't know, do you?"

"Know what?"

"It doesn't matter now. You're useless to me either way."

The wind picked up, making the lantern flames dance. I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold.

"Then I want to break our mate bond."

His eyes flashed dangerous. "What did you say?"

"You heard me. I want to sever our bond. I won't stay mated to someone who doesn't love me."

"You can't." He took a step toward me. "The bond is sacred. Permanent."

"There are ways. The moon goddess..."

"The moon goddess paired us for a reason."

"Yes, for my bloodline! You just said so!" My voice was getting stronger, fury building in my chest. "Well, if I'm so useless, let me go!"

"No."

"Why not? Find yourself a fertile mate who can give you the heirs you want!"

"Because you're mine." His voice dropped to a growl. "My property. And I don't let go of what's mine."

"Property?" The word came out like a snarl. "I am not your property!"

"You are whatever I say you are."

"I'll petition the council. I'll tell them what you've done. How you've treated me."

Lars laughed, but there was no humor in it. "And who do you think they'll believe? Their alpha, or his hysterical, barren mate?"

The cruelty in his voice hit me like a physical blow. But instead of breaking me, something inside me snapped.

"You bastard."

"Watch your mouth, Amelia."

"No! I'm done tiptoeing around your moods and your cruelty." I stepped toward him instead of away. "You want to know what I think? I think you're afraid."

"Afraid?" He snarled. "Of what?"

"Of losing me. Because deep down, you know no one else will ever love you the way I did."

His face twisted with rage. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I do. That's why you won't let me go. That's why you keep me around even though you claim I'm useless."

"Shut up."

"That's why you sneak around with maids instead of taking a second mate openly. Because you know she's nothing compared to..."

"I said shut up!"

"Make me!"

For a moment, we stared at each other, both breathing hard. The candles flickered in the wind. Far below, I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks.

Then his expression changed. The anger melted away, replaced by something cold and calculating.

"You know what? You're right. I should just let you go."

Something in his tone made ice run through my veins. "What?"

"I'll make your death look like suicide. The poor, broken luna who couldn't handle her failures anymore."

"What?" I stumbled backward. "Lars, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying you're done causing me problems."

"You can't be serious..."

"Who's going to miss you? The pack? They whisper about your failures behind your back. The servants? They pity you." He stepped closer, and I backed toward the cliff's edge. "Your parents are dead. You have no siblings, no friends."

"Lars..."

"It'll be tragic, really. Everyone will understand why you did it."

Panic flooded through me, but so did rage. Pure, burning rage.

"You're insane!"

"Am I? Or am I finally free?"

I looked around desperately. The lanterns, the flowers, the romantic dinner I'd planned—it all felt like a mockery now. How long has he been plotting my death?

When he lunged for me, I was ready.

I grabbed one of the silver candlesticks from the table and swung it at his head. He ducked, and it whistled past his ear.

"You little bitch!"

I swung again, but he caught my wrist and twisted until I dropped the candlestick. It clattered across the stone.

"Let go of me!" I clawed at his face with my free hand, my nails raking across his cheek.

He cursed and grabbed my other wrist. "Stop fighting!"

"No!" I kneed him in the stomach as hard as I could.

He bent over, gasping, and I broke free. I ran toward the path, but he recovered faster than I expected.

His hand closed around my hair and yanked me backward. I screamed as pain shot through my scalp.

"You're not going anywhere!"

I spun around and slapped him across the face as hard as I could. The crack echoed across the cliff.

"I hate you!"

"Good!" He smacked me, and I tasted blood. "It'll make this easier!"

I stumbled backward, my hand pressed to my bleeding lip. My back hit the stone barrier at the cliff's edge.

"Please," I whispered weakly. "Please don't do this."

"It's too late for begging."

He grabbed my shoulders and shoved me hard.

For a moment, I felt nothing. Just surprise. Then gravity took hold.

The world tilted. The stars above me spun in crazy circles. The cliff face rushed past me in a blur of dark rock and scraggly plants. The wind roared in my ears, drowning out my scream.

This is it, I thought. This is how I die.

My whole life flashed by in seconds, my childhood, my parents, meeting Lars, our wedding day when I thought I was the luckiest woman alive. All those miscarriages. All those nights I cried myself to sleep wondering what was wrong with me.

Now I knew. Nothing was wrong with me. Everything was wrong with him.

The water rushed up to meet me. In that final second before impact, I felt something strange.

Not fear.

Rage.

Pure, burning rage that I had wasted five years loving a man who never loved me back.