chapter 3

The dining hall was still silent when the doors slowly closed behind Clara. No one moved. The air felt thick, like a storm waiting to break.

Frederick remained standing beside his chair, shoulders tense, jaw tight. For a moment, it looked like he might follow her. But he didn’t. Instead, he sat down again—calm, cold, as if nothing had happened.

Around the long table, pack members exchanged uneasy glances. Whispered conversations resumed, quieter this time. I felt their eyes drifting toward me—judging, measuring, wondering how long the Alpha’s unwanted wife would last.

I reached for my glass of water and took a slow sip. If they expected tears, they would be disappointed.

Across the table, Clara’s friend leaned toward another woman and whispered something. Both laughed softly, loud enough for me to catch.

“Poor girl,” one murmured.

“She doesn’t even realize she’s just temporary.”

The words slid through the room like poison. Frederick heard them—I knew he did. His hand tightened slightly around his coffee cup.

“Enough,” Grandma said quietly, looking at Frederick who said nothing. Not a single word.

Interesting. So this was how it would be.

I set my glass down and leaned back in my chair, watching the room with quiet amusement. If humiliation was their game, I had no problem joining.

Before anyone could speak again, the dining hall doors suddenly opened—hard.

Every head turned.

Clara walked back inside. Gasps rippled through the room.

She had clearly been crying. Her eyes were red, mascara slightly smudged, lips trembling—a perfect picture of heartbreak.

If I didn’t know better, I might have believed it.

She walked slowly toward the table, heels clicking sharply against the marble floor, straight toward Frederick. The pack watched with open curiosity; no one stopped her.

Clara stopped a few feet from Frederick’s chair. Her eyes softened as she looked at him.

“Frederick,” she said quietly.

He didn’t stand this time. Didn’t turn his body toward her. Just lifted his eyes.

“What are you doing back here?” His tone was calm, but I noticed the slight tension in his shoulders.

Clara ignored the question. Slowly, she turned and scanned the dining hall—at grandma, the pack elders, warriors, servants near the walls. Finally, her gaze landed on me—sharp, cold, assessing.

Then she spoke clearly:

“I’m not leaving.”

The room erupted with whispers.

Frederick’s expression hardened.

“Clara.”

“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “I won’t walk away like this.”

She stepped closer to the table.

“You all deserve to hear the truth.”

I rested my chin on my hand. This should be interesting.

Clara lifted her chin, voice steady now.

“I am Frederick’s real mate.”

Whispers exploded. Some nodded knowingly, others looked shocked.

Clara’s gaze slid toward me slowly, deliberately.

“A contract marriage doesn’t make you Luna.”

The words landed like a slap.

Several wolves exchanged glances. Someone behind me whispered, “She’s right.” Another murmured, “Everyone knows Frederick loved Clara first.”

I watched Frederick carefully. This was his moment. One sentence could shut this down.

One sentence.

But he stayed silent. Completely silent.

My chest tightened—not because I expected him to defend me, but because his silence confirmed something important.

He didn’t care what happened to me—as long as it didn’t interfere with his life.

Clara smiled faintly, noticing the same.

“You see?” she said softly. “No one believes this marriage is real.”

Whispers grew louder.

Frederick’s grandmother looked irritated but still silent.

Clara turned fully toward me. Her eyes glittered with quiet cruelty.

“Tell me something, Alina.” She said my name like it tasted bitter.

“Do you really believe wearing a dress and signing papers makes you Luna?”

The room waited. Everyone wanted to see my reaction—anger, embarrassment, tears.

Instead, I smiled. Calmly. Slowly.

The surprise on Clara’s face was clear.

I tilted my head.

“Interesting,” I said lightly.

Her brows furrowed.

“What is?”

I glanced at Frederick’s left hand, then back at her.

“Then why is he wearing my ring?”

For a moment, the entire room froze.

Clara blinked.

Frederick looked down instinctively—at the silver wedding band wrapped around his finger. The symbol of our marriage. The one thing no one could deny.

A few pack members chuckled quietly. Others shifted uncomfortably.

Clara’s face flushed.

“That ring means nothing,” she snapped.

“Really?” I leaned back again. “Then I suppose he should take it off.”

Frederick’s head snapped toward me. Our eyes locked. The tension between us tightened like a wire.

I held his gaze calmly. Waiting. Challenging.

If the ring meant nothing, he could remove it. Right here. Right now.

But Frederick didn’t move.

The silence stretched.

Clara noticed. Her expression darkened.

Suddenly, she stepped forward and grabbed Frederick’s arm.

The movement shocked everyone.

“Frederick,” she said desperately, fingers tightening around his sleeve. “Then tell everyone the truth.”

The room fell silent again.

Her voice cracked slightly.

“Tell them you still love me.”

No one breathed or moved.

All eyes turned to Frederick.

Even the pack elders leaned forward slightly.

Waiting.

His jaw tightened.

His gaze flicked toward Clara, then me.

For a brief moment, something unreadable crossed his face—conflict, annoyance, maybe guilt.

Clara waited, fingers trembling.

“Frederick,” she whispered again. “Say it.”

The room held its breath.

I watched quietly, curious.

If he said yes… this entire marriage would collapse in front of the pack.

And honestly? Part of me wondered if he would.

Frederick had made it clear he never wanted this marriage.

So why pretend now?

Seconds passed.

More seconds.

Still nothing.

Clara’s eyes filled with disbelief.

“Frederick?”

His silence was heavy. Oppressive. Somehow worse than words.

The pack began whispering again—confused, uneasy.

Clara slowly released his arm.

Her face was pale.

“You can’t even deny it?” she asked quietly.

Frederick looked away.

That was his answer.

Clara laughed softly—a broken sound.

“Wow.”

She quickly turns to Frederick's grandmother, trying to regain composure.

Then she turned to me.

Everyone was shocked by what she said next.

“Then… she should do the Luna trail.”