Chapter 5
Damien's response came within seconds. *[Okay. I'll come pick you up in three days.]*
Seeing his agreement, Celeste finally felt a weight lift from her chest.
Her body had always been fragile for a she-wolf, and after the emergency surgery, she'd stayed in the hospital for another three days to recover. The doctors said the damage to her reproductive system was extensive—her wolf's healing abilities couldn't repair everything.
It wasn't until the day she was discharged that Marcus finally showed up.
"Hey. I'm sorry I couldn't visit sooner. Raven's been having nightmares about the wolfsbane poisoning, and she gets panic attacks whenever I'm not around," he explained, not meeting her eyes.
With her back to him, Celeste continued packing her things and replied flatly, "Mm."
Sensing her indifference, Marcus stepped forward and placed his hands on her shoulders—but she flinched away from his touch. The mate bond felt corrupted now, tainted by what she'd been forced to witness.
"What happened with the poisoning incident—yes, maybe I was too harsh. You went too far, but I've been reflecting too. I shouldn't have lost control like that... But don't worry, something like that won't ever happen again," he promised.
"I get it. You hate Raven because you love me, but I swear, there's really nothing between us. We're just old friends. And don't forget, you're still my mate. What exactly are you afraid of?"
If Marcus could've seen her face just then, he would've caught the disdain in her eyes.
‘Friends? You slept together. What kind of friends fuck around?’ she thought bitterly. ‘Would it only count as “something” if Vionnet ends up pregnant?’
But Celeste no longer cared. In a few days, she'd be gone for good. There was no point arguing over things that didn't matter anymore.
"What's in the past is in the past. I don't want to talk about it anymore," she said. "Aren't you here to pick me up? Let's just go."
Marcus felt a faint heaviness in his chest—she hadn't even looked at him once. Her wolf wasn't even responding to his Alpha presence.
*Fine,* he thought. *When Raven gets settled and moves out, I'll surprise Celeste. We'll finally start fresh. Whatever she did before, I'll let it go.*
*Everything that happened over the past few days had only made one thing clearer—Raven's just a friend to me. What I feel for Celeste...* His gaze lingered on his mate. *It's love.*
With that thought, he grabbed her bag and walked her out of the hospital.
Unfortunately, just as they reached the hallway, her attending doctor came walking toward them.
"Luna, is this your mate? I thought you said you were divorc—"
Afraid the doctor would reveal the fertility damage, Celeste quickly cut in. "Thanks for taking care of me these past few days, doctor. I'm doing much better now, so I won't keep using pack resources."
With that, she pulled Marcus away, hurrying out of the hospital.
But as soon as she stepped into the pack house, Raven's mocking voice rang out.
"Oh, Celeste, it's been four years and you haven't changed a bit!"
Celeste shot her a glare, clearly warning her to back off. With that, she turned to head upstairs to pack.
But what Raven said next made Celeste stop in her tracks.
"Four years ago, I was the one who drugged him. I was also the one who told you Marcus was drinking alone at that bar.
"I knew Marcus loved me. But after I left for Europe, who knew if he'd fall for someone else? I knew you liked him too. So, I figured, why not just set a little trap?
"Marcus... He's an honorable Alpha. If he slept with you, he'd definitely mate with you. But with the drugging involved, he'd never truly love you."
She walked over to Celeste with a smug look, casually letting the collar of her robe slip down.
Fresh mating marks on her throat were hard to miss—marks that should have been Celeste's alone.
"You looked after him for four years. I appreciate that. But now that I'm back—it's your turn to leave, Celeste."
She smirked.
"You've got no park member on your back . You parents are dead, remember? You can't afford to cross the Sterling family. Take my advice: leave while you still can."
Celeste's entire body trembled with rage as she processed her so-called sister's revelation. *So it's all been her plan from the very beginning, huh?*
Without hesitation, Celeste raised her hand and slapped her across the face with enough force to leave claw marks.
She looked Raven dead in the eye. "As long as I'm still his mate, you'll always be the homewrecker. Push me too far, Raven, and I'll make sure the entire pack knows what you really are."
Raven was stunned, her head buzzing from the blow. Her eyes narrowed with malice as she raised her hand to strike back—but just then, Marcus returned.
In an instant, her vengeful eyes welled up with crocodile tears.
"Celeste, Marcus and I are really just friends! That night was a total misunderstanding! Please! I'm begging you! Don't tell the pack elders!"
The next second, she dropped to her knees and started begging for forgiveness, almost kissing the floor.
Before Celeste could even react, Marcus rushed over and shoved her aside.
She was still recovering from the surgery, and the sudden push sent her crashing to the floor. Pain shot through her healing abdomen.
But it was Raven he helped up. When he turned to Celeste, his eyes shot her daggers. "You're being completely unreasonable, Celeste! I already explained everything. Why can't you let it go?"
"If you spread rumors about what happened that night, how do you expect Raven to live with the shame?"
Tears brimmed in Celeste's eyes as she struggled to stand. She bit her lip and said, "You didn't even ask me what really happened, Marcus. Are you seriously going to believe anything she says?"
His fists clenched at his sides. Seeing her so fragile did make his Alpha instincts twinge—but in the end, he still chose to take Raven's side.
"I only believe what I see with my own eyes," he said firmly. "Apologize to Raven. And swear on your wolf's honor you'll never lay a hand on her again."
Celeste let out a cold laugh, her neck stiff with pride. "I did nothing wrong. I'm not apologizing," she said, her stance unwavering. "You two are the ones in the wrong."
Whatever guilt Marcus might've felt before evaporated in an instant.
He looked down at her from above, his Alpha aura pressing against her like a physical weight. "No. This time, Celeste, you will admit you're wrong."
He called for his guards. Within seconds, they stepped in and grabbed hold of her.
"If you won't apologize, I'll carry out the traditional punishment for attacking a pack member. Ninety-nine lashes with a silver whip—you won't survive them."
He thought he could force her to give in.
But Celeste stood her ground, her wolf rising to meet his challenge despite her physical weakness.
"I hit her, yeah—because she deserved it. But I never threatened her!" she shouted. "Marcus, if you dare lay a hand on me, even just once—you're gonna regret it for the rest of your life."
Chapter 6
Marcus's eyes blazed with Alpha fury as he stared down at Celeste. The air in the room grew thick with his dominance, pressing against her like invisible chains.
"You think you can threaten me in my own house?" His voice was deadly calm. "You poisoned Raven. You attacked her. And now you dare to show disrespect to your Alpha?"
Celeste's wolf whimpered under the crushing weight of his aura, but she forced herself to stand straight. Her healing wounds screamed in protest, but she wouldn't bow. Not anymore.
"I didn't do anything wrong and I'm not apologizing." she said through gritted teeth.
Marcus's patience snapped. He turned to the pack guards who had appeared at his call. "Don't hold back," he said. "Give her the punishment she deserves."
The guards hesitated. They had known Celeste for years. She had healed their children, managed their finances, been nothing but kind to their families.
"Alpha," one of them said carefully, "perhaps we should wait for the pack elders to—"
"Now!" Marcus roared.
They dragged her to the courtyard behind the house. The silver whip gleamed in the sunlight and ready to strike. Celeste's hands were bound to an iron post with her back exposed.
"Admit your mistake," the guard said before the first lash fell.
The silver burned through her dress and into her skin. Pain spread across her back as her wolf howled in agony. Silver wounds couldn't heal properly—they would scar forever.
"I did nothing wrong," she whispered.
The second lash fell. Then the third.
With each strike, they asked the same question.
And each time, her answer remained the same.
By the thirtieth, she could barely feel her legs. The silver poisoning was spreading through her system, making her wolf whimper in pain.
Through the haze of pain, she heard Raven's voice from the house. "Marcus, don't you think this is enough? I feel terrible that she's being punished because of me."
The thirty-third lash sent lightning through her spine. Celeste's vision went black, and she collapsed against the post, unconscious.
When she woke three days later, her body was on fire. Not from the lashes—though those still burned—but from the fever that had taken hold. Her wolf was too weak to fight the silver poisoning.
The pack doctor had done what he could, but silver wounds required time and rest to heal.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. Damien's name flashed on the screen.
"I'm three hours away," his voice was rough with concern. "Pack light. We leave tonight."
Celeste forced herself to sit up, ignoring the way her back screamed in protest. She needed to pack, but as she looked around the basement room, she realized she had almost nothing left that mattered.
Just her ID. Everything else in this house belonged to Marcus or held memories she wanted to forget.
Her phone rang again. This time It was Sarah, her former assistant at Marcus's company.
"Luna Celeste," Sarah's voice was frantic. "Please tell me you're coming back. Everything's falling apart here. Ms. Raven tried to handle the Morrison account, and she accidentally sent our competitor's proposal to them instead of ours. We lost a two-million-dollar deal!"
Celeste almost laughed—if her throat hadn't hurt too much. The Morrison account was her baby. She'd spent months nurturing that relationship.
"And that's not even the worst part," Sarah continued. "She somehow deleted the entire client database. Five years of contacts, gone. Alpha Marcus is furious, but he's blaming everyone except her."
Another call came through—it was Michael, one of the board members.
"Celeste, thank God you picked up. We need you back immediately. Raven's incompetence is going to bankrupt us. She gave our trade secrets to a reporter, thinking it was a potential investor!"
The desperation in his voice was almost amusing. These same board members had stood silent when Marcus humiliated her in meetings, letting him take credit for her work.
"Our company stock has dropped thirty percent in three days," Michael pleaded. "Only you know how to fix this. Please—"
Celeste cut him off mid-sentence. "I don't work for the company anymore. Handle your own problems."
She hung up and immediately blocked the number.
For four years, she had been Marcus's shield. When investors were angry, she took their calls. When deals went wrong, she fixed them quietly. When the pack finances were struggling, she used her own connections to save them.
She had never told Marcus about any of it. She hadn't wanted him to feel obligated to her.
What a fool she had been.
Celeste dragged herself to the study upstairs, her movements slow and painful. From her bag, she pulled out a small flash drive and connected it to Marcus's computer.
She copied everything—the security footage of Raven drugging the tea she later claimed Celeste had poisoned. The financial records showing how much money Celeste had quietly funneled into the pack from her accounts. The medical reports from her miscarriage that Marcus had never bothered to read.
And one more thing. A recording from Raven's phone that Celeste had found while cleaning the Luna suite. Raven's confession to a friend about her European lover, about how she had planned to return and reclaim Marcus, about how easy it was to manipulate him.
She saved it all to the drive and placed it in the safe alongside the rejection papers.
Her phone buzzed with message after message from Marcus.
*Celeste, the shareholders are panicking. Where are you? Raven made some mistakes, but she's learning. I need you to smooth things over.*
*Stop being dramatic and get back to work. This is bigger than your feelings.*
*Damn it, Celeste, answer me! If you don't handle the Morrison situation, I'll dock your salary for the entire month.*
The messages grew more desperate as the minutes passed.
*Fine. I'm sorry about the whipping. I was angry and went too far. But you can't just disappear when the pack needs you.*
*Raven feels terrible about everything. She wants to apologize. Can't we all just move past this?*
Celeste blocked his number and deleted every trace of him from her phone.
A car horn honked outside. Through the window, she saw a sleek black car waiting in the driveway. Damien.
She had erased herself from this house as completely as Marcus had erased her from his heart.
Outside, beside a limited-edition Bentley Mulliner Bacalar, a guy stood in a perfectly tailored suit.
Damien held a faux but everlasting white tulip bouquet, the sunlight outlining his figure.
He met her eyes.
“Celeste ,” he muttered, “I’ve come to take you home.”
Chapter 7
When the black Bentley car pulled up, her heart jumped and sank at the same time.
Damien stepped out. He looked exactly the same as three years ago—tall and confident. But his eyes were different now. Colder.
“Celeste.” He said her name like it was a question he wasn’t sure he wanted answered.
She walked toward him slowly. Her back still hurt from the whipping. Everything hurt, actually.
“You came.” Her voice sounded small, even to her own ears.
His eyes moved to her bag. Just one small backpack. That was it. Three years of marriage, and this was all she had.
“This is everything?” he asked.
She nodded. “I didn’t need much there.”
Something flickered across his face. Anger, maybe. Or pity. She wasn’t sure which one it was.
“Forget it.” He walked toward her. “We’ll get you new things once we get home. Whatever you want. Clothes, jewelry, books. Anything.”
Celeste shook her head. “I don’t need those things anymore.”
“Celeste—”
“I really don’t.”
He stopped walking. For a moment, they just looked at each other. He was trying to figure out what had changed. Why the girl who used to love shopping and pretty dresses now stood before him with nothing but a backpack and hollow eyes.
“Let’s go,” she said, moving toward the car.
She turned to walk to his car. That’s when his breath caught.
“Jesus Christ.” His voice was sharp. “What happened to your shoulder?”
Celeste knew what he had seen. The raised marks across her shoulder blades where the silver whip had cut deepest. Even through the shirt, they were visible.
His hands were on her before she could stop him. His gentle fingers touched the spot where her shoulder blade pushed against her skin .
“Did Marcus do this to you?” Damien’s grip tightened. “Did he hurt you?”
“Damien—”
The fury in his voice made her wolf whimper. Not from fear. This was what it sounded like when someone actually cared.
“I’ll kill him.” He turned toward the house as if ready to march inside. “I swear to God, I’ll tear him apart with my bare hands.”
“He’s not here.” She grabbed his arm. “And I don’t want you to fight him.”
“You’re defending him?” His eyes blazed. “Look at yourself, Celeste. You’re skin and bones, you’re covered in scars, and you’re defending the man who did this to you?”
“No,I’m not defending him.” Celeste placed her hand over his. “I’m telling you this is my fight. Not yours.”
“Your fight?” He laughed,humorless. “You’ve been fighting alone for three years. Look how that turned out.”
The words stung because they were true. But she couldn’t let him see that.
“Damien, listen to me.” Celeste stepped closer. “I called you because I chose you. Not because I need you to save me. I chose you.”
The anger remained, but it softened. Something in her voice must have convinced him.
“You chose me,” he repeated, testing the words.
“Yes.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then sighed and shook his head.
“Alright.” He bent down and picked her up before she could protest. She gasped at the sudden movement, but he was gentle, careful of her healing wounds.
“But we’re doing this my way from now on.” He said.
Celeste wanted to argue, but she was so tired. His arms were warm. And for the first time in years, someone was being gentle with her.
“You’re too thin,” he murmured as he carried her to the car. “When did you eat last?”
She couldn’t remember. Food had lost all taste weeks ago.
He settled her into the passenger seat like she was made of glass. The leather was soft, expensive. The car smelled of his cologne—dark and woody, making her feel safe.
“Buckle up,” he said. “We’re going home.”
*********
Marcus got home at eight o’clock, just like every other night. He called her name as he walked through the door.
“Celeste?” he called, dropping his briefcase by the door.
Usually, she would have been waiting. She would have taken his coat, asked about his day. The routine they had fallen into over the past three years.
“Celeste?” His voice echoed in the empty hallway.
He checked the kitchen first. Then the living room. The study. Their bedroom.
Nothing.
He felt irritation in his chest. She’d been moody lately, but this was taking it too far. He pulled out his phone and dialed her number.
“The number you have dialed is not available.”
His frown deepened. He tried texting instead.
*Celeste, enough with the dramatics. I know you’re upset about Raven staying here, but she’s family. You’re being childish.*
The message bounced back immediately. A red exclamation mark appeared beside it.
She’d blocked him.
“Sir?” One of the maids appeared at the top of the stairs. “Mrs. Celeste asked me to tell you something.”
Marcus looked up sharply. “What?”
“She left this afternoon. Said to tell you she left your anniversary gift in the safe.”
The irritation in his chest shifted to something else. Amusement, maybe. Of course she had. Celeste never could resist making grand gestures when she was upset.
This was just another one of her games. Run away for a few days, make him worry, then come back expecting apologies and attention.
He almost smiled as he climbed the stairs to his study. Every year, she insisted on celebrating their wedding anniversary. Always with some handmade gift or carefully planned surprise. He had learned to expect it. Even looked forward to it, if he was being honest.
The safe opened with a soft beep. He reached inside, expecting something wrapped in tissue paper. Maybe a photo album or one of her painted canvases.
Instead, his fingers closed around a single sheet of paper.
He pulled it out, still smiling slightly.
The smile died the moment he read the header.
LETTER OF RESIGNATION