Evelyn

Outside Damon's office building, the late morning sun turned the glass façade into a wall of fire. I stood on the sidewalk, Ava's carrier heavy in one hand, the bag with his documents and food in the other, wondering if I'd made a mistake coming here.

This is ridiculous. I'm his mate and the mother of his child. I shouldn't be afraid to walk into his office.

But my heart hammered against my ribs anyway, a trapped bird beating against its cage.

The security guard at the front desk recognized me, his eyes brightening. "Luna Evelyn! It's been weeks." His gaze dropped to the carrier, and his smile widened. "And this must be the little one."

"Yes, this is Ava," I said, grateful for the warmth in his voice after weeks of Damon's cold silence.

"The Alpha will be pleased to see you both," he said, buzzing me through.

Will he, though? I wondered, stepping into the elevator. I caught my reflection in the mirrored wall—dark circles under my eyes, hair pulled back in a hasty ponytail, wearing the first clean shirt I could find. Not exactly the put-together Luna I used to be.

As the elevator climbed, I rehearsed what I would say. I know things have been difficult between us. I want us to talk. Really talk. For Ava's sake, if nothing else.

Simple. Direct. No accusations, no tears.

The elevator doors slid open on the top floor. The familiar corridor stretched before me, lined with artwork from local pack artists—Damon's way of supporting the community. I'd helped him select most of these pieces, back when he still valued my opinion.

His assistant Marissa wasn't at her desk. Unusual for her to be away, but it made things easier.

I shifted Ava's carrier to my other hand and approached Damon's office door. Through the frosted glass, I could make out shadowy movements. He was there, and he wasn't alone. Probably in a meeting.

I hesitated, then raised my hand to knock. The porridge would be getting cold.

Knock first, I reminded myself. Don't just barge in.

My knuckles rapped against the wood, three quick taps. Without waiting for a response—a habit from years of coming and going freely in his spaces—I pushed the door open.

For one suspended moment, my brain couldn't process what I was seeing. Like looking at a painting that appeared to be one thing from a distance, only to discover it was something else entirely up close.

Damon was there, yes. But he wasn't in a meeting.

He stood with his back against his desk, his shirt half-unbuttoned. And wrapped around him, her legs straddling his thigh, her hands in his hair, was a woman. They broke apart at the sound of the door, two pairs of startled eyes turning toward me.

The flask of porridge slipped from my fingers. It hit the floor with a dull thud, the lid popping off, hot food spilling across the polished hardwood.

But I barely noticed. Because the woman disentangling herself from my mate, smoothing down her skirt with practiced ease, was Susan.

My sister.

The same sister who had held my hand in the hospital. Who had promised to help me. Who had looked me in the eyes and lied.

"Why?" The word escaped me, small and broken.

Susan didn't answer. She didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. Instead, she stepped away from Damon, her chin lifting slightly, her eyes meeting mine with an emotion I couldn't name. Something cold and foreign that had no place in my sister's face.

I turned to Damon, searching. Regret or apology. Anything that would make sense of this nightmare.

"Of all people, it had to be you," I said to Susan, my voice steadier than I expected. "You, Susan. My own Sister."

In front of me, Damon's hands settled on Susan's waist, casual and possessive, as if I weren't even there. As if I hadn't just caught them in the act of betraying me in the most intimate way possible.

Susan's lips curved into something close to a smile.

My heart wasn't breaking. Breaking implied a quick, clean snap. This was a slow, excruciating compression, like being crushed from the inside out.

"How..." I swallowed, my mouth dry. "How long has this been going on?"

Damon shrugged, his eyes cold. "What does it matter? I really just don't love you anymore."

The words hit me so hard, I stumbled back a step.

"But I'm your fated mate," I whispered. "Remember when you marked me?" The night he'd claimed me, promised me forever. The first man I'd ever been with, the only man I'd ever wanted.

Something flickered in his eyes—a shadow of the man I'd fallen in love with, perhaps. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by a hardness I'd never seen before.

"You can stop whatever games you're playing now and go to hell with that bastard of yours!" he spat, his voice rising. "We both know that child isn't mine."

I stared at him, uncomprehending. The room seemed to tilt beneath my feet. "What bastard?" Heat rushed to my face as understanding dawned. I glanced at Ava, sleeping peacefully in her carrier, oblivious to the ugliness around her. "You can treat me however you want, but I won't forgive you for calling my precious baby a bastard!"

Before I could think, I was moving toward him, my palm connecting with his cheek in a sharp crack that echoed through the room. The sting in my hand was strangely satisfying.

I turned to leave, my fingers closing around the door handle, desperate to escape this room, this betrayal, these people I no longer recognized.

"Wait." Damon's voice stopped me. Not gentle, not apologetic. Just cold. "Evelyn, just you wait, so I can prove to you that your bastard daughter doesn't belong to me."

I turned slowly, confusion cutting through my anger. What was he talking about?

Before I could ask, he tossed something onto the floor between us. Photographs, dozens of them, spreading across the hardwood like fallen leaves.

I didn't need to bend down to see what they showed. The images were clear enough from where I stood.

Me, or someone who looked exactly like me, in a hotel room. In bed with a stranger, his hands on my body in ways that left nothing to the imagination.

"This is not me!" I gasped, bile rising in my throat. "I can't... recall being that way with a man, I—"

Damon laughed. "Are you that dull?" he sneered. "You can't recall, huh?"

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Take another look at those pictures and think back. Deep. Where were you, seven months ago, on a Friday night of the second week?"

The question hit me like I had suddenly been poured a bucket of Ice water. Seven months ago. The timing of my pregnancy. And that specific date...

I looked to Susan instinctively, the way I'd always looked to her when I needed help. We were supposed to be in this together because I was with her that same night.

That night when we'd gone out for drinks. When I'd woken up the next morning in a hotel room with no memory of how I'd gotten there. Susan had been there too, had assured me nothing happened, that we'd just had too much to drink and decided to get a room instead of driving home.

"Susan..." I began, reaching for the one person who could corroborate my story, who knew I would never cheat on Damon.

But Susan stepped away, her eyes cold. "Don't expect me to cover your dirt for so long. My conscience is beginning to judge me."

She brushed past me, heading for the door. As she passed, she leaned close, her lips nearly touching my ear.

"That look of your blood boiling over just makes me happy," she whispered, her breath warm against my skin. "Now let's see who becomes Luna between us."

My blood ran cold. This wasn't just an affair. It was a calculated takedown. By my own sister.

I turned to face Damon, the man I'd once believed would love me forever. The stranger who now looked at me with contempt.

"I want a divorce," I said, the words clear and final.

In that moment, with the weight of their betrayal pressing down on me, it was the only truth I had left.

* * *

Damon

"I want a divorce."

The words hit me like a punch. Evelyn stood there, her eyes hard in a way I'd never seen before. The woman who always forgave me, who always came back, was gone.

I stepped toward her, trying to hide my surprise. "You want a divorce?" I tried to sound mocking. "No. You're just trying to get my attention. It's not working."

She didn't react the way I expected. No tears. No begging. She just shifted the baby carrier to her other hand, her knuckles white from gripping it too hard.

"I can't be with a cheater who didn't care about my pain when he slept with my sister." Her voice broke on the last word.

She started hitting my chest with weak punches. I let her. Her fists barely hurt, but each one landed somewhere deeper.

"Why are you so upset when you cheated first?" I caught her wrist. It felt small in my hand, birdlike. I remembered holding it the first time we met, how perfectly it had fit.

Something stuck in my throat. I swallowed hard.

"Wasn't I enough for you?" I hadn't meant to ask that.

She looked up at me, anger giving way to disbelief. "I didn't cheat on you," she said quietly. "I can't prove it, but you have to believe me."

For a split second, I almost did. There was something in her eyes—the same honest look from when we first met. But then the photos flashed in my mind again.

The images I couldn't unsee. Her birthmark just below her shoulder blade. The curve of her hip that I knew so well. That stranger's hands on her breasts, his mouth on the spot where I'd placed my mark. Her head thrown back, eyes closed.

I'd stared at those pictures for hours after Susan brought them to me, drinking until I couldn't feel the pain. How many times had Evelyn been with me just like that? How many times had she told me I was her only one?

And now she stood here, lying to my face.

"I can't believe you." I stepped back, pointing at the mess of photos on the floor. "Not with those pictures showing me our whole relationship was fake."

I walked to my desk, keeping my back to her so she wouldn't see my hands shake. I shoved them in my pockets.

"Meet me in court," I said over my shoulder. "Tomorrow. Ten o'clock."

I walked out without looking back, passing Susan in the hallway. She reached for my arm but I pulled away. I needed air.

Outside, I loosened my tie, breathing in deep. The sky was too bright, too blue. Like the day at the lake when I'd first told Evelyn I loved her.

Pull yourself together, Damon.

I had a pack to run. A woman who actually wanted me. I didn't need Evelyn's tears or lies. I didn't need the small voice in my head asking: What if she's telling the truth?

The crowd outside the packhouse courtroom parted as I approached, heads bowing in deference to their Alpha. Inside, the elders had already assembled, along with both our sets of parents. My father nodded grimly. My mother wouldn't meet my eyes.

Evelyn hadn't arrived yet. I paced the length of the chamber, energy I couldn't dispel crackling through my limbs.

"Are you certain about this, son?" My father's voice was low enough that only I could hear.

I gave him a sharp look. "You've seen the evidence."

He sighed, a sound that carried the weight of his years. "I've seen photographs. I've also seen the way that girl looks at you. Never known a better Luna for this pack."

"She betrayed me," I snapped. "Betrayed all of us."

He held up his hands in surrender, backing away. Still acting like he knew better, as always. As if I hadn't been running this pack successfully for years now.

A murmur rippled through the crowd. I turned to see Evelyn entering, her head held high despite the whispers that followed her. Her gaze swept the room, landing briefly on her parents before settling on me. No tears today. No pleading. Just that same cold resolve I'd seen in my office.

She'd worn the formal Luna robes, deep blue with silver embroidery at the hem. The traditional dress of a mated female Alpha. I wondered if it was her way of reminding everyone of her position, of what she stood to lose.

She moved to her designated place across from me, her steps measured and slow. We faced each other across the ceremonial circle inlaid in the stone floor.

The head elder stepped forward, his voice carrying to the farthest corners of the room. "Alpha Damon has called this council to formally address accusations against Luna Evelyn. The Alpha will now present his judgment."

I'd rehearsed this speech a dozen times since yesterday. Had the words ready. But standing there, looking at Evelyn's pale face, the woman I'd once sworn to protect, the words seemed to dry up in my throat.

I forced them out anyway. "Luna Evelyn has betrayed the trust of her Alpha and her pack. She has violated her mate bond and brought dishonor to her position."

A ripple went through the assembled crowd. Evelyn's mother let out a small sound of distress.

"For these offenses, I hereby demote her from the rank of Luna to—" I hesitated, just for a second. Say it, Damon. "To warrior."

Gasps echoed through the chamber. Everyone understood what this meant—from the second highest position in the pack to one of the lowest ranks. From standing beside me in all decisions to taking orders from nearly everyone else.

* * *

Damon

Evelyn didn't flinch. Didn't cry out. Just stood there, hands folded in front of her, accepting the judgment with a composure I hadn't expected.

Before the elder could call for the ceremonial acceptance of judgment, the doors burst open. Three of my best warriors rushed in, their expressions grim, clothing torn and bloody.

"Alpha!" the first one called, dropping to one knee before me. "Rogues have breached the eastern border. Five of our head warriors are dead, and they've burned down the plantation fields."

The room erupted in chaos, pack members shouting questions, demanding answers. I raised my hand for silence.

"How did they get past our defenses?" I asked, cold fury replacing the conflicted emotions of moments before.

The warrior shook his head. "We don't know, Alpha. But we captured one of them. Under questioning, he revealed that—" He hesitated, glancing nervously at Evelyn.

"Speak," I commanded.

"He said the Luna gave them the location of the secret route into Moon Pack territory. Said she's been feeding them information for months."

The room went still. All eyes turned to Evelyn, whose face had drained of color.

"That's not true," she said, her voice barely audible. "I would never betray the pack."

But the seed of doubt had been planted. The timing was too convenient, coming right as our relationship fractured. And hadn't she already betrayed me once?

Hot rage flooded my veins, overtaking any lingering hesitation. The attacks, the deaths, the fires—all because of her?

"Enough," I growled, the wolf rising in my voice. "I've heard enough lies." I turned to the elders. "I change my judgment. Luna Evelyn is hereby divorced from her mate bond and banished from Moon Pack territory, effective immediately."

Evelyn swayed on her feet, reaching out to steady herself against a nearby bench. "Damon, please," she whispered. "You can't believe I would do this."

I couldn't listen. Couldn't risk being swayed by that pleading voice. Five warriors dead. Fields burning. How many more would die if I showed weakness now?

"Guards," I called, "escort the former Luna to the border. She has until sundown to clear pack lands."

"My baby," she said, desperation edging into her voice for the first time. "Let me take Ava with me. Please, Damon. She needs her mother."

Something inside me recoiled at the thought of releasing the child—my child, according to the mate bond, regardless of who had fathered her. And deeper, uglier: if Evelyn wanted Ava so badly, then taking her away would be the perfect punishment.

"No," I said, hardening my heart against her plea. "The child stays. She's part of this pack."

Evelyn lunged forward. Her eyes changed color—human brown to wolf amber in a heartbeat. The first guard reached for her arm. She backhanded him across the face, sending him sprawling onto the floor.

"Watch out!" someone yelled.

Her nails grew longer, sharper. She slashed at the second guard, ripping his uniform. When the third tried to grab her from behind, she threw her head back, cracking his nose. Blood sprayed across the stone floor.

Pack members scrambled back. More guards rushed in. I stood my ground.

Evelyn knocked two more aside, moving with her wolf's speed. Then she was right in front of me, breathing hard, half-shifted. Close enough that I could smell her—the soap she'd used that morning, the milk scent from the baby, the anger rolling off her in waves.

She raised her hand. Claws extended, ready to strike.

I didn't flinch. Didn't call for help.

Her eyes met mine, and something passed between us. The anger in her face crumbled. Her claws retracted. The amber faded from her eyes.

"Please," she said, barely above a whisper. "You know me. I wouldn't betray the pack." She swallowed hard. "Ava needs me."

I could have touched her then. Could have wiped the tears now tracking down her cheeks. My hand twitched at my side.

Instead, I turned away.

"Take her out," I said to the guards over my shoulder.

Behind me, I heard scuffling. The thud of bodies. Her scream when they finally pinned her arms.

"You'll regret this!" Her voice bounced off the walls. "You're making a mistake, Damon!"

I kept my back to her, eyes fixed on the empty ceremonial circle.

Her shouting turned into something worse—choked sobs that tore at something deep in my chest.

"Ava!" Her final cry as they dragged her through the doors.

Then silence.

* * *