The moment Liora stepped onto the lower level of the manor, her instincts froze her in place.
Inside what was meant to be her ceremonial chamber, she saw them—wrapped tightly in each other’s arms, bodies pressed close, voices lowered into intimate murmurs meant only for lovers. The air itself felt suffocating, heavy with a scent she recognized all too well.
Pain constricted her chest, sharp and sudden. Still, she forced herself to move, to activate the hidden surveillance rune embedded in the wall. Piece by piece, the fragmented images and recordings aligned, stitching together a truth she had never been meant to see.
Only then did Liora understand—this betrayal had roots far deeper than tonight.
Years ago, long before the bond was ever announced, Kaelen and Marcella had already crossed lines that should never have been crossed.
Eight winters earlier, Kaelen had grown desperate to escape the shadow of his powerful bloodline. Determined to prove himself without the Drake pack’s influence, he had left to carve his own path. The venture failed spectacularly, leaving him stripped of pride and standing on the brink of disgrace.
At his lowest point, fate—or perhaps cruelty—had thrown him into Marcella’s path in a dilapidated youth lodge on the outskirts of neutral territory. Within a single moon cycle, Liora’s place in his heart had been quietly replaced. Marcella had burrowed her way into him, becoming the one he relied on, the one he desired most.
Yet because the Drake elders would never allow a she-wolf of such low standing to become their future luna, Kaelen had chosen the safer path. He returned to Liora, clinging to her as the acceptable choice, while keeping Marcella hidden away in the depths of his heart.
Liora had always believed their bond—formed in childhood, strengthened over years—was destined by the Moon Goddess herself. Now she realized the truth was far uglier.
She had never been chosen out of love.
She had been convenient.
Her bare feet throbbed, torn and bloodied from wandering the stone paths, but the pain felt distant compared to the devastation tearing through her chest. The memory of Kaelen’s hand striking her face burned like a brand, obliterating the trust she had spent a decade building.
Something hardened inside her.
She would let him go—the man she had loved, waited for, and believed in for over ten years.
Still, the ceremony itself cut deeper. The union under the full moon had been more than tradition; it was her dream. Through countless lonely nights and humiliations, she had clung to that vision of love and belonging. It had been her anchor, the hope that carried her forward when everything else fell apart.
She would not allow that dream to become a reward for the very people who had shattered her.
So Liora made her decision.
This ceremony would stand—not as a beginning, but as an ending. A final goodbye to the girl who had devoted a decade of her life to a lie. After tonight, she would sever herself from her unjust family and the man who had never truly chosen her.
Once her tears dried, Liora steadied her breathing, pulled out her phone, and booked a flight scheduled seven days later.
The confirmation rune glowed briefly before fading—but the screen shifted back to the surveillance feed.
Perhaps it was fate mocking her, or the Moon Goddess’s cruel sense of timing, but Liora caught the final moments of an old confession she had never been meant to hear.
“I regret everything,” Kaelen said, his voice thick with remorse. “Back then, I was blind. I mistook worthless sand for something precious. If you’re willing to come back, I’ll cancel this ceremony without hesitation.”
He exhaled slowly before continuing, his tone turning gentler. “Even if you don’t… I’ll still be good to Liora. She reminds me too much of you.”
Despite everything she had already seen—despite knowing the truth beyond any doubt—those words made Liora’s heart tremble painfully.
On the screen, affection spilled freely between them, unrestrained and unmistakable.
Marcella appeared slightly drunk, her movements sluggish, her speech loose. Instead of answering him, she sprawled across the sofa like she owned the space.
Kaelen—the same man who had rebuked Liora for drinking—now stood patiently over a pot, preparing hangover broth. He fed Marcella carefully, one spoonful at a time, his movements tender and practiced.
Marcella turned away with a childish kick.
“Who would even want to bond with you?” she scoffed.
Kaelen didn’t bristle. He simply caught her foot and began rubbing it gently, his touch affectionate enough to make Liora’s throat tighten.
Marcella smiled, satisfied.
“I know I can’t be your luna,” she said lazily. “Your status won’t allow it. But I also know you never stopped loving me.”
She glanced around the room, her lips curving upward. “This chamber was decorated to suit my tastes. The ceremonial ring? You picked it because I liked that design. Even the heels she’s wearing—those were the ones I rejected.”
As she spoke, she nestled her head against Kaelen’s chest.
“It doesn’t matter,” Marcella murmured softly. “Titles mean nothing to me. As long as I’m the one in your heart, that’s enough. I won’t leave you again. I’ll stay—no matter what role I have to take.”
Liora’s fingers clenched around her phone until they trembled.
Her heart felt as though it were being torn apart, thread by thread.
And the cruelest truth of all—
Even after witnessing everything, even after uncovering every lie, a fragile spark of hope still lingered inside her… foolishly wishing that, at the very last moment, Kaelen would finally choose her.
