Tristan didn’t come home that night. No text, no call. Nothing. After I refused to play housemaid and make soup for Saint Selene, he blocked my number like a petulant teenager. Classic. I sat in the cold silence, letting it sink in. This time, though, I didn’t feel the usual sting of rejection. I just felt… done. So freaking done.
The next morning, I threw some clothes in a bag. It wasn’t much—just enough to get me through whatever this next chapter of my life was going to be. I needed to grab a few things from my hometown anyway. Maybe find pieces of the old Ember I lost somewhere along the way. The bus ride was long and quiet, just me and the rain tapping against the window. With each passing mile, it felt like I was shedding layers of the life I’d wrapped around myself. A life that revolved around him.
When I finally arrived, my mother was waiting at the front door. Not for me, of course. No, she was scanning the street for Tristan, like some fangirl waiting for a celebrity sighting. Her face twisted in disappointment when she realized I was alone.
“Where’s Tristan?” she snapped, her eyes narrowing like I’d committed some unspeakable crime.
“We’re done,” I said, my voice hollow. “I’m just waiting for the rejection.”
Before I could say more, her hand flew out and slapped me across the face. Hard. I staggered back, more stunned than hurt.
“You’re throwing it all away,” she hissed. “Do you have any idea what you’ve lost? Tristan is an Alpha! You should be on your knees, thanking him for choosing you. Girls like you don’t get second chances.”
Yeah, I knew. She’s been drilling it into my head since I was a kid. Marry an Alpha. Secure the future. Blah, blah, blah. But here’s the thing—Tristan wasn’t a future. He was a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.
When the broomstick came down on my back, I barely flinched. I was numb. She kept screaming, yelling things like, “Beg him back! Get pregnant if you have to!” As if that would magically fix everything. The weight of her words crushed me more than the hits ever could.
Then she kicked me out. Threw my stuff into the mud like garbage. A photo frame hit me square in the forehead, leaving a cut that started bleeding. Cool. Perfect way to top off the morning.
I knelt there in the rain, picking up what little I had left. The rain soaked through my clothes, mixing with the blood dripping down my face. I didn’t even care. Let it pour.
Right on cue, a sleek black Bentley rolled up. Tristan. Because of course he’d make a dramatic entrance. He stepped out, looking every bit the untouchable Alpha in his tailored suit. His eyes flicked over me—soaked, bleeding, broken—but all he did was curl his lip in annoyance.
“Get in,” he barked, like I was a stray dog he decided to pity.
I climbed into the car without a word. What was the point? His leather seats were warm, but I wasn’t. He threw his coat over me, but the scent of Selene’s perfume clung to it like a bad memory.
“Have you learned your lesson?” he asked, voice cold but smug. “No one will ever love you like I do. Apologize to Selene, and we’ll fix this. You’ll still be my Luna.”
Oh, Luna. That word used to mean something to me. Now, it was just a leash. I turned my head, watching raindrops race down the window. I didn’t have the energy to argue. Not anymore.
His phone buzzed, and he answered it without hesitation.
“Tristan, where are you?” Selene’s voice purred through the speaker. “The pack’s waiting, babe.”
Babe. I felt my stomach twist. He didn’t even bother to hide it anymore.
“Come to the retreat,” he said suddenly, glancing at me like I was an afterthought. “You should be there.”
I blinked. Me? He never let me anywhere near his pack stuff. But sure, why not? Let’s add public humiliation to the list of today’s accomplishments.
“Okay,” I said, wiping the blood off my face with the sleeve of his coat. What else was I supposed to do?
The retreat was at some ridiculous mansion deep in the woods. The kind of place that screamed wealth and power. I barely noticed. Inside, the room buzzed with energy—Alphas, Betas, pack elites—all mingling and sizing each other up. And there I was, standing next to Tristan like a prop.
Selene was the first to greet us, of course. She draped herself all over him, flashing me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Ember! So glad you could make it.”
I gave her a tight smile, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Tristan’s hand rested on my lower back, a silent command to stay close. Like he cared. I stuck to his side, pretending I wasn’t dying inside. People stared, whispered. I felt like a sideshow attraction.
The rest of the night was a blur of fake smiles and forced small talk. Every word out of Tristan’s mouth was a lie. Every touch was calculated. I was nothing more than a pawn in whatever game he was playing.
When it was finally over, I retreated to the guest room Tristan had arranged for me. It was huge, lavish… and empty. Just like me.
I locked the door and collapsed onto the bed, letting out a shaky breath. My phone buzzed. A text from Cherry.
Cherry: Two days. Stay strong.
Two days. That’s all I had to survive. Then I’d be free. Free from Tristan. Free from this life.
