I couldn’t pinpoint exactly when Rayne appeared at the door, her scent—a faint mix of vanilla and rosemary—filling the room before I even saw her. Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she took in my disheveled appearance, her lips curving into a smug smile.

“Alpha Layton told me you’re feeling under the weather,” she said, her voice dripping with false concern. “I thought I’d bring you something to cheer you up.”

I clenched my fists tightly, my nails digging into my palms as I glared at her. The faint hum of my wolf stirred in the back of my mind, a low growl of warning.

Rayne strolled over, her movements deliberate, and leaned in to whisper maliciously into my ear, “Didn’t I warn you? Whether it’s your family’s wealth or your mate, anything you have, I’ll take from you.”

I shoved her forcefully, the strength of my wolf lending me power, and grabbed my phone, hurling it at her with all my might. “Rayne James, I won’t let you walk all over me.”

The phone hit her forehead and shattered on the floor. A bruise swelled instantly, yet she barely flinched. Instead, she dropped to her knees, looking up at me with feigned innocence, her eyes wide and pleading.

“Sister,” she said softly, her voice trembling, “if hitting me will make things right between us, then go ahead.”

The same sickening act. Did she really think I wouldn’t dare?

Rage surged through me, and I stepped forward, my hand flying to slap her hard. But before I could make contact, someone rushed in, shoving me aside with such force that I stumbled and fell to the ground.

Layton stood there, his towering frame radiating Alpha authority, his dark eyes blazing with anger as he held Rayne protectively in his arms. “Rayne is your sister. How could you treat her so harshly?” he demanded, his voice sharp with disapproval.

“She came here to check on you, and this is the thanks she gets?”

I sat on the floor, my chest heaving, and scoffed at his legs, the ones he had injured saving me from the rogue werewolves five years ago. “So you’re done pretending, huh?”

“You know perfectly well she was responsible for my parents’ deaths, yet you still lie to me for her sake!”

Layton’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Rayne was scared back then,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “That’s why she leaked your location. She regrets it now. Can’t you forgive her this time?”

I stared at him, my eyes cold and unyielding. “What right do you have to ask for my forgiveness?”

“I’d rather see her gone. Alpha Layton, don’t even dream of making me donate blood to save her again.”

Layton opened his mouth to argue, but Rayne, clutching his shirt, cut him off, tears streaming down her face.

“Alpha,” she whimpered, her voice breaking, “she just wants me to pay with my life. Don’t blame her; it’s all my fault.”

Before she could finish, she fainted dramatically in his arms. Layton’s face paled, and he immediately lifted her, his movements frantic as he rushed out of the room, presumably to find the pack’s Healer.

A hollow feeling spread through my chest. The lies were now out in the open; there was no reason for me to stay any longer.

Dragging my exhausted body to the door, I tried to leave, only to be stopped by two burly Delta warriors, their imposing figures blocking my path.

“Luna Gloria,” one of them said, his voice respectful but firm, “Alpha Layton has ordered you to rest in your room. Please don’t wander around.”

---

The tension in the room was suffocating, mixed with the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee. Rayne had brought over a basket of spiced honey cakes, but they sat untouched on the table, their sweet aroma doing little to ease the bitterness in the air.

My Victorian-style dress rustled as I moved, the sound sharp against the backdrop of silence. The warmth of the Thanksgiving wreaths adorning the walls did little to dispel the coldness that had settled between Layton and me.

Postcards of the Alps were scattered on the desk, a cruel reminder of broken promises. Layton’s presence, once a source of comfort, now felt colder than the mountain air.

My phone buzzed with Amazon notifications, the sound echoing the chaos of unread WhatsApp messages. I felt alienated, trapped in a world where pack traditions and hierarchies clashed with personal betrayals. The weight of my title as Luna felt heavier than ever, a chain I could no longer bear.

Was this their way of keeping me under watch? I tried desperately to escape, but the solid door wouldn’t budge. The guard’s grip was firm, his dominance as a Delta warrior making resistance futile.

“Luna,” he said, his tone respectful but unyielding, “don’t make this difficult for us.” He pushed me back inside and closed the door, leaving me trapped in the room. Frustrated, I walked over to the window, but being on the fourth floor made jumping unthinkable. Besides, Alpha Layton’s loyal warriors patrolled every inch below, their sharp eyes scanning for any sign of movement. It dawned on me how little control I had over my own freedom, how tightly the pack’s hierarchy bound me.

Overwhelmed, I sank to the floor and began to cry.

After what felt like an eternity, the door opened, and Alpha Layton entered, carrying a thermos. His presence was commanding, his tall, muscular frame filling the space. He was dressed impeccably, his Alpha aura radiating authority. “You must be hungry,” he said gently, though his voice carried the weight of his position. “I had someone make tomato soup for you. Drink it while it’s hot.”

I avoided his eyes, instead focusing on the marking ceremony invitation I held. It had slipped from Rayne’s dress earlier, and the sight of it made my stomach churn. I asked directly, “The person you worked so hard to save is marking someone else now. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Alpha Layton paused mid-scoop, his expression unreadable. “I just see her as a sister,” he replied, his tone calm but firm. “As long as she’s happy, that’s all that matters.”

This answer didn’t surprise me. I continued, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest, “So, when do you plan to let me go?”

Alpha Layton chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in it. “And where would you go without me?” he asked, his voice laced with condescension. “I’ve told you I’m going to mark you as my mate. Tomorrow, we’re getting our photos taken for the ceremony.”

Clearly, he intended to keep using me as a blood source for Rayne. I stared intently at his face, remembering how I had begged countless times over the years to formalize our bond, only to hear that true mates didn’t need such formalities. Yet now, he was eager not to miss any moment with Rayne. His favoritism was painfully clear.

I accepted the tomato soup he offered and drank it silently. Seeing my indifferent expression, Alpha Layton stifled any unease he might have felt and stayed quietly by my side.

The next morning, he was already getting ready—his dark hair styled perfectly, his custom-tailored suit accentuating his broad shoulders, and an irrepressible smile on his face. Even though I knew he didn’t love me, the dependence I’d developed over the years left my heart aching.

“Can’t we do it on a different day than Rayne’s?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Alpha Layton hesitated, his Alpha tone softening slightly. “Rayne said she doesn’t blame you for what happened yesterday. You should apologize to her later.”

I didn’t respond, allowing him to lead me to the car. The ride was silent, the tension between us palpable.

The venue for the photos was cleared out by the time we arrived, and Alpha Layton had already disappeared when I stepped out of the car. Guided by the staff, I went into the dressing room to try on the dress he had pre-selected. The gown was elegant, but it wasn’t made for me.

“This is odd,” the staff member assisting me said, her tone hesitant. “It was made to the measurements Alpha Ortiz provided, but it doesn’t fit. Luna, have you been watching your weight recently?”

I had been donating blood frequently over the years, and my body had grown increasingly frail. How could I not be controlling my weight? The truth was, this dress wasn’t meant for me. Just as Alpha Layton never intended for me to be his mate.

Forcing something that doesn’t fit only brings more discomfort. This applies to clothing and even more so to people.

“If it doesn’t fit, then it doesn’t fit,” I said, my voice firm despite the ache in my chest. “Find me something to cover my back and pin it in place.”

Perhaps because Alpha Layton wasn’t there, the staff showed little respect and suggested, “How about we just take a few test shots in this for now? Once you pick a dress, we can make alterations.”

Too tired to argue, I posed for a few photos before sending them off to alter the dress. The empty dressing room left me alone with my thoughts. I stared at my phone, waiting for a reply. To leave Alpha Layton, I needed someone’s help.

“Gloria James,” I muttered to myself, my voice tinged with bitterness. “Why are you always following me? I specifically asked Alpha Layton to come alone for the dress fitting, yet he insists on bringing you along.”