[Araya's POV]

The door opens.

Araya lifts her head from where she sits on the floor, back pressed against the cold wood. Her heart lurches, hope and dread twisting together in her chest.

Jasper steps inside.

His storm-gray eyes sweep the room, landing on her. His expression does not change. No surprise. No concern. Just cold assessment.

"Get up," Jasper says.

Araya pushes herself to her feet, legs unsteady. The silk gown clings to her, wrinkled and heavy. Her bare feet are numb from the cold stone.

Jasper closes the door behind him. The lock clicks, sharp and final.

He does not look at her as he crosses to the table and pours himself a drink from the decanter. Amber liquid splashes into the glass. He drinks it in one swallow, then pours another.

Araya stands frozen, watching him.

"Did you enjoy your walk?" Jasper asks, his voice flat.

Araya's breath catches. He knows. Of course he knows.

"I..." Araya's voice falters. "I was waiting."

Jasper sets the glass down with a sharp clink. He turns to face her, leaning back against the table, arms crossed over his chest.

"You were spying," Jasper says.

"No. I just... I heard..."

"What did you hear, Araya?"

Araya's throat tightens. She cannot speak. Cannot form the words.

Jasper's jaw tightens. He pushes away from the table and crosses the room in three long strides. He stops in front of her, close enough that Araya has to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.

"Answer me," Jasper says.

"I heard you," Araya whispers. "With her."

Jasper's expression does not change. No shame. No guilt. Just cold indifference.

"And?" Jasper asks.

Araya's hands curl into fists at her sides. "And you're my mate. My husband. You should be here. With me."

Jasper's lips twitch, almost a smile. "Should I?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

The question hits like a slap. Araya stares at him, unable to answer.

Jasper leans in, his voice dropping low. "Because some priest said words under the moon? Because your father needed to marry you off before you became too much of an embarrassment?"

Araya flinches.

Jasper straightens, turning away. "This bond is a formality, Araya. Nothing more."

"Then why go through with it?" Araya's voice cracks. "Why marry me at all?"

Jasper does not answer. He walks to the bed, sitting on the edge, pulling off his boots.

Araya watches him, chest heaving. "You could have refused. You're the Alpha. No one could have forced you."

Jasper looks at her, his storm-gray eyes cold and flat. "Your father owed me a debt. This was payment."

The words cut deeper than any blade.

Araya's vision blurs. She blinks hard, refusing to let the tears fall.

Jasper stands, pulling off his coat and tossing it onto the chair. He unbuttons his shirt, his movements mechanical, efficient.

"Come here," Jasper says.

Araya does not move.

Jasper's eyes narrow. "I said, come here."

Araya's feet move before her mind can stop them. She crosses the room slowly, every step feeling like walking toward the edge of a cliff.

She stops in front of him.

Jasper reaches for her, his hand gripping the back of her neck. His fingers are cold, firm, possessive. He pulls her closer, his other hand finding the laces of her gown.

He unlaces them roughly, pulling the silk loose. The gown slides from her shoulders, pooling at her feet.

Araya stands before him, exposed, trembling.

Jasper's gaze sweeps over her, clinical and detached. He does not speak. Does not offer comfort. Does not kiss her.

He pushes her back onto the bed.

Araya's breath comes in short, sharp gasps. Her hands grip the furs beneath her, nails digging into the fabric.

Jasper moves over her, his weight pressing down, suffocating. His hands are rough, efficient, taking what he wants without asking.

There is no tenderness. No warmth. No love.

Only duty.

Araya closes her eyes, biting down on her lip to keep from crying out. Pain flares, sharp and immediate, tearing through her. She gasps, her body tensing.

Jasper does not stop. Does not slow.

Araya's chest tightens, her breath coming in ragged pulls. She feels used. Hollow. Like something being taken apart piece by piece.

But beneath the pain, beneath the humiliation, something stirs.

A spark.

Faint, barely there, flickering like a dying ember.

The bond.

Araya feels it, thin and fragile, stretching between them. A thread of silver light, trembling in the dark.

Jasper must feel it too. His breath hitches, just for a moment. His grip tightens.

But he does not stop.

When it is over, Jasper pulls away. He stands, dressing quickly, his movements sharp and angry.

Araya lies still, staring at the ceiling. Her body aches. Her chest feels raw, carved open.

Jasper pulls on his shirt, buttoning it with swift, precise movements. He does not look at her.

Araya turns her head, watching him. "Jasper..."

"Don't," Jasper says, his voice cold.

Araya's throat tightens. "Please. Just..."

"I said, don't."

Jasper grabs his coat and strides toward the door.

Araya sits up, pulling the furs around her. "Where are you going?"

Jasper does not answer. He opens the door and steps into the corridor.

"Jasper, wait."

The door closes behind him.

Araya scrambles from the bed, wrapping the fur around her shoulders. She crosses to the door and pulls it open, stepping into the hallway.

The corridor is dark, lit only by the flickering torches.

Jasper's footsteps echo, distant and fading.

Araya follows the sound, her bare feet silent on the cold stone. His scent lingers in the air, pine and leather, sharp and unmistakable.

She moves quickly, her heart pounding.

The footsteps turn a corner, disappearing into the shadows.

Araya rounds the corner, following his scent.

[Araya's POV]

Araya's bare feet whisper against the cold stone as she follows Jasper's scent through the winding corridors of Ironfang Keep. The fur wrapped around her shoulders does little to ward off the chill that seeps into her bones. Her body still aches from what happened in the chamber, a dull, throbbing reminder of his touch.

The torches flicker as she passes, casting dancing shadows on the walls. Jasper's scent grows stronger with each step. Pine and leather, sharp and unmistakable, leading her deeper into the keep.

Araya's heart pounds in her chest. She should turn back. She should return to the chamber and wait, as a proper Luna would. But something pulls her forward, something desperate and aching that refuses to let go.

The corridor branches. Araya pauses, listening.

Voices drift from the left passage, low and murmured. Intimate.

Araya moves toward them, pressing herself against the wall. The passage narrows, opening into a small alcove lit by a single torch. The same alcove from earlier.

Araya's breath catches.

Jasper stands with his back to her, one hand braced against the wall. Serenya faces him, her honey-blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her green eyes bright with satisfaction. Her silk gown clings to her curves, the fabric shimmering in the torchlight.

Serenya's hand rests on Jasper's chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns over his shirt.

"You came back," Serenya murmurs, her voice soft and pleased.

"I needed air," Jasper says.

"Is that what you call it?" Serenya laughs, the sound light and teasing. "I thought you'd stay with her longer. Make it convincing, at least."

Jasper's jaw tightens. "It's done."

"Poor thing," Serenya says, tilting her head. "Was she crying?"

Jasper does not answer.

Serenya's fingers trail down his chest, lingering at the buttons of his shirt. "You're cruel, you know. I like that about you."

Araya's chest constricts, pain radiating through her ribs like claws tearing flesh. She presses her hand over her mouth, stifling the sound threatening to escape.

Serenya leans closer, her lips brushing Jasper's jaw. "Tell me you missed me."

Jasper's hand moves to Serenya's waist, pulling her against him. "You know I did."

The words hit Araya like a physical blow. Her knees buckle, but she forces herself to stay upright, gripping the wall for support.

Serenya's smile widens. "Say it again."

"I missed you," Jasper murmurs, his voice low and rough.

Serenya's eyes gleam with triumph. "That's better."

Araya's vision blurs. The bond she felt earlier, that fragile thread of silver light, feels like it is burning away to ash. She wants to scream. She wants to tear herself away from this alcove and never look back.

But she cannot move.

Serenya's hand slides up to Jasper's neck, pulling him down. Their lips meet in a slow, deliberate kiss. Not hurried. Not desperate. Savored.

Araya's breath comes in short, sharp gasps. Her nails dig into the stone wall, scraping against the rough surface.

Serenya pulls back slightly, her lips still close to Jasper's. "She'll never satisfy you, you know. She's nothing. Wolf-less. Weak. Pathetic."

Jasper's hand tightens on Serenya's waist.

Araya waits. Waits for him to deny it. To push Serenya away. To tell her that the bond means something, even if it is painful and twisted.

But Jasper says nothing.

Serenya's smile turns cruel. "You could have had anyone. Any strong, beautiful wolf in the pack. But instead, you're stuck with her."

Jasper's storm-gray eyes remain fixed on Serenya. His expression is unreadable, cold and distant.

"She won't last," Serenya continues, her voice dropping to a purr. "She'll break. And when she does, you'll finally be free."

Jasper's thumb brushes along Serenya's jaw, a gesture so tender it makes Araya's stomach twist.

"Maybe," Jasper says quietly.

Serenya laughs, soft and satisfied. "I knew you'd see reason."

Araya's legs give out. She stumbles back, her shoulder hitting the wall. The sound is soft, but in the stillness of the corridor, it echoes.

Jasper's head snaps toward the sound.

Araya freezes, her heart hammering in her chest.

Jasper's eyes narrow. He steps away from Serenya, moving toward the corridor entrance.

Araya turns and runs.

Her bare feet slap against the stone floor, the sound echoing through the empty halls. She does not care who hears. She does not care if Jasper follows.

She just runs.

The corridors blur around her, torchlight streaking past in flashes of orange and shadow. Her lungs burn. Her legs tremble.

She does not stop until she reaches the chamber.

Araya slams the door behind her and leans against it, chest heaving. Her breath comes in ragged, broken sobs. She slides down to the floor, pulling the fur tighter around her shoulders.

The room is still dark. The fire is still dead. The candles are still burned out.

Nothing has changed.

Except everything has.

Araya presses her hands over her face, trying to muffle the sound of her crying. Her body shakes with the force of it, every sob tearing through her like a wound reopening.

He took her body. He bound her with duty and obligation. But he gave his affection, his tenderness, his words, to Serenya.

Araya's half-sister.

Her own blood.

The betrayal cuts deeper than anything Jasper could have done alone. This is not just cruelty. This is deliberate. Calculated.

Serenya wanted this. Wanted Araya to know. Wanted her to suffer.

And Jasper let it happen.

Araya lifts her head, staring at the closed door. Her silver-blue eyes burn with unshed tears.

She waits for the door to open. For Jasper to come back. To say something. Anything.

But the door remains closed.

Minutes pass. An hour. Maybe more.

Araya does not move.

The moon sinks lower in the sky, its light fading through the window.

And then she hears it.

Footsteps.

Slow. Deliberate.

Moving down the corridor.

Not toward the chamber.

Away.

His scent drifts through the gap beneath the door. Pine and leather. Sharp and unmistakable.

Jasper.

The footsteps fade into the distance.

Araya closes her eyes, her chest hollow and aching.

He is not coming back.

Not tonight.

Maybe not ever.

[Araya's POV]

Morning light filters through the window, pale and cold. Araya sits on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in the fur from the night before. Her body aches. Her eyes burn from crying. The chamber is silent, empty except for her.

Jasper never returned.

Araya stares at the door, waiting. But the longer she waits, the clearer it becomes. He is not coming back. Not to apologize. Not to explain. Not even to acknowledge what happened.

Her chest tightens, anger sparking beneath the pain.

Araya stands, dropping the fur onto the bed. She crosses to the wardrobe and pulls out a simple dress, dark green wool that hangs loose on her slender frame. She dresses quickly, her hands trembling as she fastens the laces.

She cannot stay in this room. She cannot wait anymore.

Araya opens the door and steps into the corridor. The keep is stirring now, wolves moving through the halls, their voices low and murmured. They glance at her as she passes, their eyes sliding away quickly, whispering behind their hands.

Araya lifts her chin and keeps walking.

She knows where Jasper will be. The Alpha's office, a stone chamber on the second floor overlooking the courtyard. He spends his mornings there, dealing with pack business, issuing orders, hearing complaints.

Araya climbs the stairs, her bare feet silent on the stone. She reaches the heavy wooden door and pauses, her hand hovering over the handle.

She hears voices inside. Low. Clipped.

Araya pushes the door open.

Jasper stands behind a large oak desk, papers spread out before him. His storm-gray eyes lift as the door opens, narrowing when he sees her.

Serenya sits in a chair near the window, legs crossed, her honey-blonde hair gleaming in the morning light. She smiles when Araya enters, the expression sharp and satisfied.

"Araya," Jasper says, his voice flat. "I'm busy."

"I need to speak with you," Araya says.

Jasper's jaw tightens. "Not now."

"Yes, now."

Serenya's smile widens. "How bold. I didn't think you had it in you."

Araya ignores her, keeping her gaze fixed on Jasper. "We need to talk. Alone."

Jasper sets down the paper in his hand, his movements deliberate and slow. "Anything you need to say, you can say in front of Serenya."

"No," Araya says. "I can't."

Jasper's eyes flash with irritation. "Then you can wait."

"I've waited long enough."

Serenya laughs, the sound light and mocking. "Oh, this is entertaining."

Jasper's gaze shifts to Serenya, then back to Araya. "Leave."

"No," Araya says.

Jasper's expression darkens. He steps around the desk, moving toward her. "I said, leave."

"Not until you tell me why," Araya says, her voice trembling but firm. "Why did you marry me if you hate me so much?"

Jasper stops in front of her, close enough that Araya has to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. "I don't hate you, Araya. I just don't care about you."

The words hit like a slap.

Araya's breath catches. "Then why take me to your bed? Why bind me to you?"

"Because it was expected," Jasper says coldly. "Because the bond needed to be consummated. Because your father owed me, and this was the price."

"That's all I am to you?" Araya's voice cracks. "A debt paid?"

Jasper's expression does not change. "Yes."

Araya's hands curl into fists at her sides. "And her? What is she to you?"

Jasper's gaze flicks to Serenya, who watches with barely concealed amusement.

"She's none of your concern," Jasper says.

"She's my sister," Araya says, her voice rising. "And you're my mate. You vowed before the moon. You bound yourself to me."

Jasper's jaw tightens. "I vowed to take you as Luna. I never vowed to love you."

Araya's vision blurs. "You could at least try to respect me."

"Respect?" Jasper's voice hardens. "You want respect? Earn it."

"How?" Araya demands. "By staying silent while you humiliate me? By pretending I don't see you with her?"

Jasper's eyes narrow. "You were spying."

"I was looking for my husband," Araya says. "The man who was supposed to be with me on our wedding night."

Serenya rises from her chair, crossing the room with slow, deliberate steps. She stops beside Jasper, her hand resting lightly on his arm.

"You're making a scene, Araya," Serenya says sweetly. "It's unbecoming of a Luna."

Araya's gaze snaps to Serenya. "Stay out of this."

"Why should I?" Serenya tilts her head, her green eyes glittering. "You're the one barging in here, demanding things you have no right to demand."

"I have every right," Araya says. "I'm his mate."

"In name only," Serenya says. "Everyone knows it. You're wolf-less. Weak. Unworthy of standing beside an Alpha."

Araya's chest tightens, fury and pain twisting together. "And you think you're worthy?"

Serenya's smile widens. "I know I am."

Jasper's hand moves to Serenya's waist, a small, possessive gesture that makes Araya's stomach turn.

"Enough," Jasper says, his voice cold and sharp. "Araya, you will return to your chamber. You will not cause a scene. You will not question me again."

"Or what?" Araya asks, her voice trembling.

Jasper's storm-gray eyes lock onto hers, and for a moment, Araya sees something dark and dangerous flicker in their depths.

"Or I will reject you," Jasper says.

The words hang in the air, heavy and final.

Araya's breath stops. Her heart hammers in her chest, the sound loud in her ears.

"You're weak," Jasper continues, his voice cutting. "You're unworthy. You should be grateful I even went through with the ceremony. Grateful I didn't cast you out the moment I saw you."

Araya's hands shake. "Jasper..."

"If you cause trouble," Jasper says, his voice dropping low and dangerous, "if you embarrass me in front of the pack, I will sever the bond. I will reject you publicly, and you will have nothing. No mate. No pack. No family. Do you understand?"

Araya stares at him, her vision blurring with unshed tears.

Serenya leans into Jasper, her smile triumphant. "She understands. Don't you, Araya?"

Araya's throat tightens. She cannot speak. Cannot breathe.

Jasper turns away, dismissing her with the movement. "Go."

Araya stands frozen, her body trembling.

"I said, go," Jasper repeats, his voice harder.

Araya takes a step back, then another. Her legs feel weak, unsteady.

She turns and walks toward the door, her vision swimming.

Behind her, Serenya's laughter rings out, soft and cruel.

Araya steps into the corridor and pulls the door closed behind her.

The sound echoes in the empty hall.

Araya presses her back against the wall, her chest heaving. Her hands shake. Her knees buckle, and she slides down to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself.

The threat lingers in her mind, sharp and unforgiving.

If she causes trouble, he will reject her.

And she will have nothing.