A Beautiful Lie

Aria

I smiled when the cameras pointed at me at the reception, when the guests toasted, when the pack bowed their heads in approval of the union. My lips moved, said words, but none of it felt like me. I was dancing in someone else’s body.

No, not someone. Lira’s

I couldn’t believe I had seen her. Standing at the far end of the crowd like she wasn’t a ghost. Like she hadn’t burned. Like she hadn’t been lowered into a river in a coffin smaller than a kitchen table.

My heart stuttered when I saw her — same smirk, same signature red dress, same honey-glazed eyes that used to narrow at me when she thought I was hogging the mirror too long.

And then she was gone.

“Aria,” Kol’s voice slid past the mask of my daze. He came around to the side of my head and put his hand on the bottom of my back as if he had control over me. “When it is time for me to introduce you to our guests, you better keep one thing in mind.”

I turned slightly to glance at him, trying to keep my expression composed.

“These people…” He gestured subtly toward a cluster of figures in sleek suits and glowing moonstone pins. “...need to see a Luna who respects her Alpha. Not one who embarrasses him. And certainly not one who already hates her mate.”

The smile never reached his eyes. He was handsome, powerful, and worshipped in this room like a god—but his words were iron bars, and I was already in a cage.

“Of course,” I replied with my voice like polished glass. “I wouldn’t want to mess up your show.”

We walked side by side, hand-in-hand, and all I could think of was whether Lira would ever walk again. If I was even really seeing her. If the dead could wear dresses.

The High War Chief of the Onyx Pack greeted Kol with a loud laugh and a hearty shake. “I see even after Lira’s… untimely death, your taste hasn’t changed, Kol.”

I stiffened.

Someone else chimed in, a slinky woman in a blood-coloured gown, “She’s prettier than all the others in your little Luna collection. If I may be so bold.”

I blinked. Luna collection? So that’s what these people refer to his Luna’s?

My spine tingled, but I held up my posture. I was raised with etiquette, not because I was a Harrington, but because I had a mother who told me never to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.

“Such uncanny resemblance,” another murmured, swirling her wine. “It’s eerie, really.”

Kol's laugh was low, rehearsed. “Tonight is not about the past. It’s about Aria.”

He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it like I was some prized wolf, freshly claimed.

I barely heard him. My eyes were drifting.

And then, again. That dress.

I stopped breathing.

She stood behind a group of chattering guests. The red gown. The way her fingers toyed with her hair. It was her. I was sure this time.

Without hesitation, I pulled away from Kol and rushed to her.

“Aria—” his voice was gritted with rage, but I paid him no attention to him.

I pushed my way through mass of people, barely maintaining my balance on the slippery floor. My breath hitched. I knew she was falling out of my hands. She was walking away, and I had to move to catch up.

“Lira!” I called under my breath. No one noticed.

When I finally tapped the shoulder of the red-dress girl, the woman turned with a confused smile.

She wasn’t Lira. She was a stranger.

I felt the embarrassment flush up my neck, burning my ears. I turned back around and scanned the crowd.

Kol was staring straight at me, tight-lipped, flanked by the same high-ranking wolves who had just sung my praises.

I stepped forward, but the damage was already done.

“Is she… special?” one of them asked Kol.

“Not in the good kind of special,” another muttered behind a champagne flute.

Kol’s jaw flexed. “She’s overexcited. She just married the love of her life,” he said smoothly, and then with a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes, “Give her time. She’s a bit dramatic.”

I nodded as I approached, forcing a grin as if it had all been part of the act. The good Luna. The devoted wife. The pretty mistake.

But when the doors shut behind us in the comfort of our room, all pretence shattered.

Kol slammed the door. “What the hell was that?”

I flinched slightly but held my ground.

“You embarrassed me,” he hissed, closing the distance between us. “Do you have any idea what those people will say? That I married a woman who can’t keep her damn head straight for an hour?”

I backed up until my spine kissed the cold wall. “I thought I saw someone—”

“You thought you saw someone.” he cut in, mimicking me while leaning close with one arm pinning me in place. “And who could that possibly be?”

My breath caught. The wall dug into my shoulder blades. I was speechless.

“I should lock you up,” he muttered.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” I spat.

He slammed his palm beside my head and I jumped.

“Do you want me to kill your uncle?” he asked calmly.

Then I went silent.

“So that’s how you handle your problems, huh?”

“By removing them, yes, sweetheart.” He agreed with a small grin on his face.

Of course he does. I forced my voice to stay steady.

“I’ll cooperate,” I murmured.

He studied me, then stepped back like he hadn’t just threatened the last piece of family I had.

I didn’t wait for his next move. I walked straight into the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

The bathwater ran hot and fast with steam clouding the mirror. I undressed, stepping into the tub like I was shedding not just fabric, but every part of myself that still had hope.

The water scalded my skin. I wished it would scald my heart too.

If I could just wash off the hate…

Maybe I wouldn’t feel like this. Maybe I wouldn’t be lying in bed with the man who killed my family. Maybe my uncle wouldn’t be in danger. Maybe I wouldn’t feel like I was slowly unraveling thread by thread.

I submerged myself into the water until only my nose peeked above the surface.

He threatened my uncle. He warned me what he does to problems. And that’s when I knew. I was going to handle my problems just the way he did— I was going to kill that son of a bitch.