Chapter 2: Claws of Confrontation

My stilettos hadn’t even grazed the marble steps leading to the grand entrance when the butler, with a deferential bow, swung the heavy oak doors wide, ushering me into the opulent embrace of the Voss estate.

Since Damian’s betrayal, I’d completed our wedding alone and moved into the sprawling manor with his parents, as would’ve been expected had our marriage not imploded. Margaret and Victor, Damian’s mother and father, had enveloped me in respect and tenderness. Not only did they treat me as their son’s wife, but their guilt over Damian’s actions spurred them to embrace me as a daughter. Their warmth had been my anchor in the storm of his absence.

Through the open doorway, I glimpsed Damian’s bowed silhouette, but it was Margaret’s sharp rebuke, slicing through her usual warm laughter, that reached me first. “You vanish for a year, not a word to your wife, Lila, nor a shred of duty as Alpha to this pack. And now you slink back—do you think you deserve anyone’s respect?”

“I was wrong, Mom.” Damian’s voice was low, contrite, as he clasped her hand.

Margaret’s stern expression softened at her son’s apology. “If you know you’ve erred, then come back with your heart in the right place. Surely you’ve cut ties with that woman. Start anew with Lila—she’s beautiful, capable. If you two commit to each other, you could lead this pack to greatness…”

But Damian cut through her hopeful vision like a blade. “I’m back to take up my responsibilities as Alpha, to lead this pack with honor. But Lila will never be my Luna. I want a divorce. Isabelle is my only wife, the only Luna this pack will have.”

Margaret’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her chest as if struck. Victor, who’d been seated, surged to his feet, hurling a bottle at Damian before rushing to steady his swaying wife. “If you’ve come back with that muddled head of yours, thinking you can cast Lila aside, you can leave now.”

“Dad!” Damian’s voice cracked with disbelief.

Victor’s heart bled with disappointment. Damian had been his pride, a child born under lofty expectations. As a boy, he’d outshone his peers, sparring with the pack’s finest warriors while barely a teen. Victor had beamed with joy when Damian earned the Moon Goddess’s blessing and stood ready to wed Lila, believing his life’s purpose fulfilled.

But Damian—blinded by love, reckless and brash—had shattered that dream. His self-righteous declaration at the wedding had dragged the Voss name through the mud. Yet, despite the pain, Victor had clung to a flicker of hope, believing his son might return redeemed.

Instead, he faced the same foolish boy, spouting the same nonsense as a year ago.

Victor’s voice was steel. “If you can’t see your place in this family or this pack, step outside and look around. See how much has changed—because of Lila’s work this past year. Divorce her if you want, but you’ll forfeit your claim as Alpha. The shares of the family empire promised to you upon marriage? They’ll go to her. Marry that woman if you must, but you’ll be cast out from the Voss legacy. Not a cent will sustain your pampered life. Choose.”

Damian’s fists clenched, fury blazing in his eyes, ready to lash out. But I chose that moment to glide in, my heels’ sharp clicks slicing through the charged air like a siren’s call. Victor gave me a curt nod, while Margaret rushed to my side, clasping my hand in a fierce show of solidarity, soothing the storm brewing in my chest.

“Lila, what spell have you cast on my parents? Or did you slip something into their wine to make them fawn over you like this?” Damian bared his teeth, the only one in the room who didn’t welcome my return.

I had no doubt that, without Victor and Margaret’s presence, his fists would’ve flown. But I was unshaken. I patted Margaret’s hand reassuringly, signaling her and Victor to leave. I wanted Damian alone.

Their defense of me was heartfelt, but Victor’s threats stemmed as much from disappointment in his son as from a lingering hope that our marriage could endure. I was grateful for their support—without it, I wouldn’t have won the pack’s loyalty so swiftly this past year.

But I was done with this farce of a marriage, tired of my name being tethered to a useless, hollow Alpha.

This year, I’d claimed what I wanted. And Damian, with his sanctimonious drivel about pure, untouchable love, had surely gotten his. It was time to end this charade.

As Margaret and Victor withdrew, the cavernous living room echoed with emptiness, leaving just me and Damian. He positioned himself as far from me as possible, fists still balled, radiating hostility.

Fear didn’t touch me. This year, I’d honed my body relentlessly—many of the pack’s warriors were no longer my match. Beyond that, my private security, hired solely for my protection, lurked just outside, ready to swarm at my command.

In every way, I held the upper hand. A thrill of anticipation curled in my gut.

“No time for pleasantries, I see, my runaway Alpha husband.” My voice dripped with mockery.

“Don’t call me that. It makes my skin crawl.” His anger flared, raw and unfiltered.

“Relax, darling. If memory serves, this is the first—and last—time I’ll call you husband.” I sank onto the velvet sofa, crossing my legs with deliberate ease. “You’re not the only one itching to escape this marriage.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His face darkened, as if I’d struck him, but it only widened my grin.

“Didn’t Victor and Margaret tell you? I’ve already sounded out the pack elders about divorce. They’re fine with it—but who claims the pack’s throne afterward? That’s up to us. The test is the Moon Trial. Victor and Margaret didn’t want you to know—they’re still hoping we’ll stay married.”

The Moon Trial, held every five years at the Wolf King’s decree, was a grueling rite. Each pack sent two champions to the full moon’s night, tasked with entering the Forbidden Forest to retrieve a relic symbolizing the King’s authority. The journey was riddled with traps, hostile creatures, and deceptive mirages, testing courage, cunning, and loyalty to the pack.

This year, the trial loomed next month, and the elders had decreed that Damian and I would compete. The one who outwitted not only the other packs’ warriors but also each other, claiming the relic, would rise as Alpha post-divorce.

Damian scoffed, his gaze dripping with disdain. “You? You think you can win?”

I leaned forward, my smile sharp as a blade. “The question is, do you dare to try?”

“There’s nothing to fear. You’re doomed to lose.”

His smug confidence only deepened my smirk. The outcome was far from certain—I never underestimated an opponent without cause.

Damian, it seemed, knew nothing about me.