In the very next moment, the silence shattered.
Kaelen—who had stood there wordless until now—suddenly moved. Without offering so much as an explanation, he reached out, pulled Marcella toward him, and sealed his mouth over hers. The kiss was deep and unrestrained, filled with a hunger that spoke of years of longing finally given release, as though everything he had suppressed had come rushing out at once.
Liora’s restraint collapsed.
Her body shook violently as tears spilled freely, blurring her vision until she could barely breathe.
For ten long years, she had loved him. Yet every time she had leaned in, every time she had tried to bridge that final distance with a kiss, Kaelen had subtly turned away. Back then, she had soothed herself with excuses—telling herself he was reserved, that his wolf was cautious, that affection simply wasn’t his way.
Never—not once—had she imagined that all the desire he withheld, all the warmth he kept locked away, had been meant for someone else entirely.
They had shared countless nights beneath the same roof, even the same bed, their scents mingling in intimacy. And yet, no matter how close they lay, Kaelen had always kept a part of himself untouched, carefully preserved for the woman he truly loved.
Liora dug her nails into her palms until the pain bit sharply, grounding her as she lowered her gaze. Her eyes landed on the heels still strapped to her feet—beautiful, suffocating things that suddenly felt unbearable.
They were a gift from Kaelen, given during their engagement celebration. Crafted with crystal-studded diamonds that shimmered like starlight, they were extravagant, breathtaking—straight out of a fairy tale. Liora had adored them at first sight.
But beauty didn’t change the truth.
They were a size too small.
Hours of wearing them had left her feet torn and bleeding, every step agony masked by a forced smile.
Without hesitation, Liora bent down, slipped them off, and tossed them straight into the trash bin.
Shoes that didn’t fit—no matter how dazzling—weren’t worth the pain.
And a mate bond that never truly belonged to her—no matter how much history it carried—wasn’t worth clinging to either.
She reached for her phone, intending to call for a ride, when a voice cut sharply through the air behind her.
“Liora.”
She turned.
The instant their eyes met, Kaelen released Marcella’s hand. His gaze flickered to Liora’s face, lingering on the faint bruise blooming against her skin. Guilt flashed through his eyes, quick and fleeting.
“You’ve sobered up now?” he said stiffly. “I didn’t mean to hit you that hard. I just wanted to stop you before things got out of control.”
Liora didn’t respond. She simply looked past him—straight at Marcella.
Sensing it, Kaelen hurried to speak again. “It’s not what you think. Just listen to me for a moment.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice as though reason alone could undo everything. “Don’t jump to conclusions. Marcella drank too much tonight. It wouldn’t have been safe for her to walk back alone, especially at this hour. So I brought her here.”
He paused, then added quickly, “She’s still your family. Of course I’d look after her. And she’s thoughtful—she even said she’d leave early so you wouldn’t misunderstand when you came back.”
Kaelen had always been a man of few words.
Yet now, when it came to Marcella, explanations poured from him endlessly. Each sentence was another shield, another excuse carefully placed in her defense.
Liora stared at him—the man she had known since childhood, the wolf she had trusted for over twenty years—and felt a chilling sense of unfamiliarity.
They had grown up together under the same moon, running through forests as pups, sharing dreams as they matured. She had stood by him through the harsh years of building his standing within the pack, supporting him when his ambitions threatened to consume him.
So how had she ended up reduced to nothing more than a substitute?
The question surfaced briefly… and then faded.
She no longer cared to chase the answer.
In seven days, she would be gone.
She wouldn’t have to swallow her pain anymore for the sake of so-called “pack harmony.”
Liora’s gaze shifted to Marcella. Something inside her finally snapped, and the words she had buried for over a decade spilled out at last—raw, sharp, and unfiltered.
“She’s not my sister,” Liora said coldly. “She’s the child of a kept woman—and now she’s playing the same role herself.”
The words struck like thunder.
Marcella didn’t react, her expression unchanged. But Kaelen stiffened, his fury igniting instantly.
The word kept seemed to tear through the last remnants of his restraint. He lunged toward Liora, his voice erupting into a furious snarl that echoed through the room.
“Liora! What kind of garbage are you saying? Apologize to Marcella—right now!”
His eyes burned as he continued, every word cruel and deliberate. “No parents to raise you properly—no wonder you turned out like this. You’re twisted, spiteful, and impossible to love. This is exactly what you deserve!”
In ten years, Kaelen had never once raised his voice at Liora.
But for Marcella—within a single night—he had shouted at her twice.
Each accusation cut deeper than the last, slicing straight into the most vulnerable parts of Liora’s heart, leaving wounds no wolf could heal.
