Evan paused at the doorway. “What did you throw away?”
I didn’t bother to look at him.
“Just some rubbish I should have gotten rid of long ago.”
He didn’t seem to care. As if remembering something suddenly, he added, “I heard Sarah accidentally tore your bridal gown. But don’t worry. I told the weavers to rush another one. It will be finished in time for the ceremony.”
He slung his cloak over one shoulder.
“Remember, tomorrow night is the clan gala at my family’s longhouse. Don’t be late. I have matters to handle, so I won’t be coming back tonight.”
He took his keys of the stables and walked out. Not once did he glance at the overflowing waste bin behind me—packed with every gift he had ever given.
The next night, at the eighth bell.
I arrived alone at the Marks Family’s feast grounds.
The moment I stepped into the torchlit garden, I saw them.
Evan and Sarah.
Dressed in matching ceremonial attire, glowing under warm firelight like royalty born under the Moon Goddess.
Mrs. Marks’s expression tightened the instant she saw me.
Her smile cracked and fell apart.
She wore the jeweled necklace Sarah had gifted her. Her eyes dragged over me with disdain as sharp as claws.
“You’re an hour late. No surprise. No manners at all. Just like your mother, the thief.”
But Evan had told me the feast began at the eighth bell.
My fists curled.
Long ago, I had once mentioned that Sarah’s mother had been a mistress. The next day, Mrs. Marks’s missing jewelry “miraculously” appeared beneath my mother’s bedding.
Evan knew she’d been framed.
He never once defended us.
But now—I didn’t bow. I didn’t shrink. I stared Mrs. Marks straight in the eyes… then looked directly at Sarah’s smug little smile.
“I’m not here to be insulted,” I said coldly. I turned to Sarah. “And my mother was never a thief. She didn’t raise me to seduce other wolves’ mates like some mothers raise their daughters.”
The words barely left my mouth before a violent slap crashed across my cheek.
My ears rang. My body hit the ground.
A metallic taste filled my mouth.
Evan towered over me, eyes cold and superior.
“You spread rumors about her! Don’t you see how it torments her? How long are you going to keep this up? Do you want her to throw herself off a cliff?”
I pushed myself upright, face burning with fury.
“She suffered? She?” I let out a short, broken laugh. “She suffered from her own choices. And you—you know exactly what she’s done. My mother is dead. I have lost everything. And you just stand here, letting her play the victim?”
Whispers rippled through the crowd—soft at first, then louder.
Evan’s jaw tightened.
“Leave,” he growled. “Go calm yourself. You’ve humiliated yourself enough tonight.”
The garden buzzed as clan elites gathered.
Mr. and Mrs. Marks stepped forward with forced smiles and cups of spiced wine.
“Let’s not spoil the evening. Come, everyone—drink.”
Guests swarmed Evan and Sarah with praise.
“To the blessed couple!”
“Congratulations to the future Alpha pair. A perfect match!”
Evan had always insisted our relationship stay secret.
He never told anyone about us.
And now?
He smiled like a perfect gentleman, standing beside Sarah as if she were the rightful Luna.
He didn’t explain anything.
Didn’t deny anything.
Didn’t even glance at me.
Sarah clung to his arm like she belonged there.
Beneath the lantern-light, they looked like a storybook couple.
And I?
I was nothing but a stain marring the scene.
I laughed—soft, breathless, bitter—and turned to leave.
But a hand blocked my path.
Sarah.
Her smile was triumphant.
“Leaving so soon?” she purred. “But I haven’t told you how that old woman died.”
My heart stopped.
“What did you just say?”
She leaned in, her voice a poisonous whisper.
“I told her if she wanted her coin back, she’d have to record something… entertaining. The sort of thing traders pay for.”
She grinned wide.
“But she got all righteous. She refused. Even insulted me and my mother.”
A twisted laugh slipped from her throat.
“So I taught her a lesson.”
She sighed dramatically, as if bored.
“Did you know? She barely made it past fifty before she collapsed. Still had the nerve to cling to my leg and beg—beg—me to return the money for her sweet daughter.”
She clicked her tongue.
“Pathetic, truly.”
