Chapter 2

Elara's POV

The sharp pain in my jaw jolted me back to reality before the daydream could pull me any deeper.

His grip was inhuman. I could feel the bone threatening to buckle under fingers that didn't understand the concept of "too much" for a human frame. A broken sound escaped my throat, and hot tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

Orion flinched. He released me instantly, dropping his head as his jaw tightened with something that looked a lot like self-reproach.

"I'm sorry. I forget sometimes—the difference in strength."

As he spoke, he braced both hands against the tempered-glass counter. The glass splintered under his palms like it was nothing.

That was the first time I truly understood the sheer violence of werewolf strength. It was the first time I felt genuinely, hopelessly small.

I reached out, wanting to touch his face—to offer some comfort for the anguish written in every line of his body. Something deep inside me needed to soothe him. But I pulled back. Shy. Ashamed of the wanting.

The little supermarket went silent. It was just the two of us, and I swear I could hear both our heartbeats over the ragged, helpless sound of his breathing. When he finally lifted his head, the silver had faded from his eyes. What remained was a deep, complicated blue—mysterious and startlingly clear.

For just a second, I had the strangest feeling that I knew those eyes. That I had seen them before, on some other night that felt a little like this one.

When had I seen them? I couldn't remember.

He finally spoke. His voice was clipped, polite, and freezing cold.

"Listen. We are not compatible as mates. I intend to reject you."

I stared at him, not fully tracking what he meant. The blankness on my face only seemed to deepen the pain on his. He sighed and spelled it out slowly, as if he were translating a language he hated having to speak.

"I say the words: I reject you as my mate. You say: I accept your rejection. That's all there is to it. Understood?"

I nodded, confused.

It sounded simple enough. Whether I actually wanted to say those words was a whole other question.

I'd taken a basic werewolf studies elective in ninth grade. His words brought it all back—I knew that if I accepted his rejection, whatever thread existed between us would be severed. We'd be strangers. I'd never see him again.

I didn't want that.

I was still trying to figure out what I actually wanted to do when he said the words. Fast and certain, like he'd already made his peace with it.

I'd missed my window.

That hit harder than it should have.

I stood there, staring at the face that made my heart stutter, my lips parted but unable to form a single sound—

Then, the door burst open. A group of men in black suits stormed in and threw a cloud of silver powder straight into his face.

"Alpha. You cannot reject your mate. Not for the White Moon Pack."

One of the older men looked at me with something almost like fondness. "We'll see each other again soon, future Luna."

And just like that, they hauled an unconscious Orion past me and out the door. I ran after them, watching as they loaded him into a black stretch Lincoln and vanished into the night.

I found out later that the man leading them was Theodosius—the Grand Elder of the White Moon Pack. Whether I should thank him or blame him for everything that followed, I still wasn't sure.

Orion never loved me. I should have known that from the start. But I kept dreaming, right up until today.

After that night, I threw myself into becoming someone worthy of standing beside him. I studied until I earned my way into Newland University—one of the top five schools in the country—as his junior by one year. I leveraged my talent for genetics into lab grants and research positions, slowly grinding to bridge the massive gap between his world and mine.

I told myself that one day he'd truly see me. That one day, I'd deserve to be his Luna.

Instead, he spent those years hopelessly in love with someone else. Celeste—the daughter of the Amber Crystal Alpha, a genetics prodigy, and the rare carrier of a Red Wolf bloodline. She was everything he wanted. Everything he thought I could never be.

It was only after Celeste married the Silver Wing Alpha that Orion finally turned to me—hollowed out by loss, looking for a place to put the pieces of himself.

I said yes. Because I loved him.

I told myself that love was enough. That if I gave him everything—if I ran his household, fulfilled my duties, and stood by him without complaint—he would eventually stop resenting me. That someday, he'd love me back.

I was wrong.

He was the most powerful Alpha in the werewolf world. The only silver wolf of his kind. He was never going to fall for a human girl with nothing to offer.

I should have seen it coming.

It was time to let it end.

I picked up my phone and walked toward the stairs. I should have filed for divorce a year ago, the day Celeste's husband died. I knew the truth even then.

Orion. You can finally have what you always wanted.

I'm letting you go.

* * *

He came home just before dawn.

Seeing the light still on, he walked over and leaned down to kiss me—the gesture felt like a practiced apology. "Sorry. Work ran late."

He always did this. He gave me just enough warmth to keep the illusion alive.

But then I caught the scent.

It was heavy and unmistakable. The signature of another she-wolf—wild white roses with a sharp, metallic edge underneath. A sweetness with teeth.

My stomach clenched.

Orion didn't notice. His long fingers slipped beneath the silk of my nightgown, his touch already demanding. He shrugged off his jacket, loosened his tie, and began working his way through his buttons, unhooking his belt with one hand.

In bed, he was always dominant. He never needed to ask if I was willing; he had always known, better than anyone, how completely I'd given myself to him. Body and soul, year after year, with nothing held back.

He parted my thighs and worked his fingers inside me, thumb finding my clit with practiced ease. When he felt how different I was tonight—nowhere near as open to him as I usually was—a small crease appeared between his brows. He dipped his head and kissed me, trying to coax me through whatever had me locked up.

I wanted to say no.

But years of habit and the magnetic pull of him made the words impossible to find.

His kiss deepened. A broken sound left my throat. My body answered him against my will, slick heat blooming despite everything.

The blue of his eyes caught the warmth of it—he was always pleased by how easily I responded. His thumb traced my lips, then my cheek. Then his hand fisted in my hair, my head tipping back, and he pushed inside me.

God, the heat of him—

My skin burned under the rhythm of his body. Sex with him was always like this. Overwhelming. The kind of pleasure that made it easy to forget, for just a moment, that none of this was ever about love.

When I fell apart, my eyes squeezed shut, mouth open, tears running silently into my hair.

"Orion." My voice was barely there. "I want a divorce.