LOGIN
I slipped into the bedroom, closing the door behind me with a soft click.
The room was heavy with Aiden’s scent—soap, heat, and the faint saltiness of skin that had only recently cooled from a long day.
Sitting on the empty space on the bed, I drank in the sight of his bare back, rising and falling with shallow breaths.
I knew Aiden was awake—he had heard me come in. I was in heat and I believe he could sense it, that I need him, I need my mate, my husband.
My hand slid over his shoulder, slow and deliberate. His skin was warm under my touch, smooth and familiar. I let my hand linger, tracing slow circles, savoring the nearness of him.
Softly touching him as he turned over, I leaned in, my lips finding his bare shoulder first—a soft, testing kiss—before trailing upward to the nape of his neck, letting the moment stretch, hoping he’d get the hint.
He didn’t pull away!
Relieved, I pressed a little further, letting my mouth find his.
The kiss was rougher than I expected, but he kissed me back. His hand found my neck, sliding up and gripping the side firmly, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss.
But then his grip tightened. A little too tight.
I shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure, but his hand just clamped harder. He rolled me onto my back with a force that knocked the air out of my lungs.
I blinked up at him, breathless, confused—but there was no time to think. He was on me, his weight pressing down, hands pushing and positioning with a single-minded roughness we had never shared before.
Still, I opened my legs for him, willing myself to match his urgency. Maybe this was what he needed…
But when his hand tightened again, harder this time—cutting off my breath altogether—panic started to creep in.
“A-Aiden,” I choked out, trying to keep my voice calm. “Can... can we just slow down? Please?”
He exhaled sharply. The room wasn’t lit but I could tell he had gone cold. “What’s wrong with you?” he muttered, his voice a low snarl. “You’re the one who came in here begging for it.”
“No. I-I’m sorry.” I said, I didn’t want to mess up the moment. “I just don’t like choking. I mean…we never did this before and I’m not used to it…”
Aiden froze. Then, slowly, he pulled back.
“Okay. Forget it.” He rolled onto his side, turning his back to me. “I’m not in the mood anymore. Get out.”
“Wait… what?”
I sat up, my intent to try again. I reached out, placing a tentative hand on his back, trying to find him again, trying to fix whatever had broken. I waited for him to turn towards me.
Instead, Aiden flinched.
He slightly recoiled as though there was a fire beneath my palm and it irritated his skin.
I paused, my hand hovered just an inch away from his back.
“Can we... can we just try?” I whispered. “Please, Aiden. I’ll do better. I promise.”
He turned over, his eyes met mine. The light in the room was off, there was just moonlight coming in through the open window but I didn’t even need the light to know the look on his face.
It was the kind of look you gave something pathetic. Something you were too disgusted to pity.
He laughed, low and cold. “Don't embarrass yourself more, Mara. You want to try?” He echoed, his voice flat. “With that figure?”
I stiffened. I knew my body was no longer the same as when I was a teenager growing perky breasts. Time, stress and the crushing weight of his responsibilities had taken its toll on me, but there was nothing really wrong with my figure. I wasn’t overweight, I was lean and fit, and I still had my curves even though I used to be curvier but hard labor would do that to you.
Despite the eyebags, I still had my natural beauty. I was still beautiful.
I was still a beta, still strong and still his mate, his chosen mate, his wife.
Why did he have to say that?
He didn’t stop there. He sat up and looked at me like I was a clown repeating the same dumb joke. “Why do you keep doing this, Mara? Why do you keep pushing it? Can’t we just sleep like normal people?”
“Normal?” My voice cracked. “Like pretending we’re strangers in the same house? Separate beds, separate lives? We’re mates—You are my husband! Or did you already forget that? And there’s nothing normal about what’s happening between us.”
His eyes narrowed. “Don’t start.”
“What do you mean don’t start?”
“I didn’t forget!” he snapped. “But you keep dragging up stuff like…”
I gritted my teeth. “By stuff, do you mean her? That’s not even what I was talking about but you always seem to bring everything back to that woman.”
He looked away.
“What does Talia have that I—”
His face darkened as he cut me off. “Don’t say her name.”
“Why not?” I bit out. “Are you scared you’re going to be honest with me for once?”
He pushed his hands through his hair. “I told you,” he said, his jaw tightened. “I cut things off, all contacts completely. What else do you want from me? Can you stop with the tantrums and scenes? Do I really need to remind you what happened last time you blew up over nothing?”
He didn't say it, but I knew we were both thinking about the same thing. The memory that night came fast like it had been waiting for me to see it.
It was three months ago.
He had told me he was going for a work event, necessary socializing. I knew he was lying before he even finished the sentence, he couldn’t bring his eyes to meet mine that night. He was nervous so I checked his phone.
I had never stooped that low before, never degraded myself in that manner but I had to.
The moment I saw her name Talia, I knew.
She was an omega from another pack whom he rescued from a mission. She had been a rogue and later joined our pack.
I found their messages, their love letters to each other, there were paragraphs upon paragraphs. I never even knew Aiden could write poems, and the pictures of her on his phone. She was smiling, constantly glowing with her slim figure and bright eyes. In some of those pictures they were holding hands like a real couple.
I remembered staring at my reflection in the mirror that night. I was in my mid thirties, constantly tired from work with dark bags under my eyes. I didn’t look fragile, with my curves, callused hands and stiff shoulders.
My life was devoid of that feminine energy ever since I took on the role of Aiden’s wife, I was no longer soft or shy. I was simply a hard worker neglecting makeup, exchanging cute dresses for different uniforms.
I went to the venue I had seen in their texts, I didn’t have a confrontation in mind when I left but when I passed through the lobby and found her.
Young, delicate with long legs, she was prettier in person. Aiden’s colleagues hovered around her, laughing like schoolboys.
Then one of them said it—
“You and Aiden look made for each other.”
She laughed—a soft, tinkling sound that seemed to light up the room.
“Oh, come on," she said, with shyness. "If Aydie Bear hears you guys teasing like that, he’ll get mad again.”
Aydie Bear.
The name she used in their love letters. She sounded like she was his wife.
I went red with rage, by the goddess. I had no idea when I grabbed the glass, but all I did was splash her with the water and she screamed.
Mara I do not remember walking to our bedroom. I do not remember the journey from the sitting room. I do not remember Damon guiding me through the hallways or up the stairs. I do not remember how we arrived at this place except that we are here and the door is closed. I do not remember Damon closing the door either though I know he must have. All I remember is the silence. The suffocating pressurized silence that follows too much truth at once. The kind of silence that comes when your entire understanding of yourself and your world has been fundamentally altered. Mother. White wolf. Experimentation. Talia. Sister. The word keeps slicing through me. My legs go up as soon as the door closes. Before I hit the floor Damon grabs me. He does not talk. He does not offer explanations or perspective or the kind of comfort that requires words. He just pulls me into him with his arms solid and steady and present. And that is when I break. Not the quiet tears I have mastered over
Mara Morning comes gently. Too gently. Warm ribbons of light stream across the bed like a promise as they flood through the drapes. The morning is kind in a way that feels unearned after yesterday. I forget about councils and accusations and politics for a little moment. I forget about everything except the warmth beside me and the stillness of early morning. Then Damon groans. Reality returns. He shifts beside me pressing a hand to his forehead like his head might fall off if he does not hold it together. His expression contorts slightly. "Never again," he mutters with the absolute certainty of someone who genuinely believes they will maintain this promise. I smile faintly and slip out of bed moving quietly so as not to jar him further. "You say that every time," I observe. "This time I mean it," he protests weakly. "You will not," I reply calmly already pouring him water from the pitcher on the bedside table. The water is cool and fresh and exactly what his body needs.
Mara They half carry him in. Zeta on one side supporting him with the kind of patience that comes from years of loyalty. Ryan on the other side making sure his steps remain somewhat coordinated despite the alcohol that has clearly been consumed extensively. Damon shrugs them off the moment he sees me. "I can walk," he mutters though his steps are not entirely steady. Though he is clearly not as fine as he is trying to appear. The scent of alcohol reaches me before he does. Sharp. Heavy. Layered over something darker underneath. Humiliation. Anger. Wounded pride. Defeat. All of it mixed together in a way that speaks to how much the day has cost him. "Thank you," I tell his Betas softly. My voice carries gratitude but also dismissal. Also understanding that what he needs now is not their presence but mine. Ryan studies my face carefully searching for blame. Searching for resentment. Searching for any indication that I am angry at what has happened. He will not find it there
Mara Until the automobile disappears around the corner I wave. Up until the morning air wisps with the curl of dust that is all that remains of his departure I stand at the gates and watch him go. I stand there long past the point where seeing him would do any good. And still— Something does not sit right. It is not dramatic. Not sharp. Not the kind of pain that cuts and demands attention. Not something that announces itself with violence. Just… tight. I felt as though invisible fingers were pressing against my ribs in the middle of my chest. As though something inside me recognizes that things are about to shift. That the day ahead will break something and cannot be undone. I frown and put my palm there against my chest trying to understand what my body is telling me. Anxiety I tell myself immediately. Of course I am anxious. Of course my instincts are screaming. Damon is walking into a chamber full of men who want him humbled. Men who smile while sharpening knives. Men wh
Damon The doors slam open so hard the hinges groan in protest. I do not remember pushing them. I do not recall making the decision to leave the chamber or crossing the space between my father's court and the exit. I just remember the movement and the need to be anywhere except in that room. I just remember heat. Heat in my chest burning like something is trying to consume me from inside. Heat in my skull making my thoughts fractured and sharp. Heat crawling under my skin like my wolf is trying to tear its way out and rip something apart. Like the animal inside me recognizes the humiliation and wants to respond with violence. Behind me I hear Zeta's boots. Ryan's quieter stride. Neither of them speaks. Neither of them tries to offer comfort or explanation or false reassurance. Good. If anyone says the wrong thing right now I might break more than furniture. I might break more than stone. I might break more than the careful facade I have been maintaining. The courtyard air hi
Damon The packhouse feels different when I return. Not hostile. Not cold in the way that comes from rejection or disdain. Just… watchful. The walls themselves appear to be holding their breath unsure if I will still be a part of them when the sun rises. Unsure if I will still be their Alpha or if I will become something else. Something diminished. The doors behind me close with a gentle thud. I am not as relaxed by the familiar scent of woodsmoke wolf and house stone as I usually am. The smells that have always meant home and safety now feel like they are asking questions. Asking if I can still protect them. My power hums restlessly under my skin agitated scraping against restraint. It wants to do something. It wants to move. It wants to act but there is nothing to fight. Nothing physical that can be solved with strength. Mara is already there. She is pacing the main sitting room with bare feet silent against the floor with hair loose around her shoulders like she has been wa
Damon’s POV The chandeliers in the grand hall glittered like a thousand eyes above us, their light bouncing off the gold covered walls and polished marble floors. Darius and Father had done all out for this banquet, not for the pack or for the guests. No… this was all about their perfect stage. T
Mara’s POV The room swayed with whispers and snapping flashes, all eyes were on me now. My chest heaved but my voice remained loud and sharper than a blade. “You think I didn’t know about what was going on between you two?” I hissed, locking eyes with Aiden. His face had gone chalk white, his eye
Damon’s POV I heard Mara enter the safe house with her usual quiet grace but there was something my wolf caught instantly… there was something she was trying to hide. With my wound, I wasn’t too busy to notice that she was favoring one side over the other. I shifted on the chair, grimacing at th
Mara’s POV I had no idea the spirit that possessed me to buy so much food. My arms ached with the weight of the bags as I made my way to the safehouse but some part of me hadn’t been able to stop buying. There were fresh vegetables, cuts of beef and spices I hadn’t felt the joy to use in years. T







