Felicity’s POV
I was no longer in my own room.
That reality stung worse than any wound, worse than the claw marks that had nearly killed me weeks ago. They had moved me to the guest room, four plain walls, a small bed, none of the warmth that once reminded me I was supposed to be Luna. My things were stacked in boxes like I was a rogue passing through. Meanwhile, Dianna… she slept in my room. My bed. The one place where I had once dreamed of raising pups with Alpha Cyrus.
I folded my clothes with slow, deliberate hands, as if by neatly tucking each piece away I could somehow hold together the fraying edges of my sanity. Each shirt, each scarf carried a memory, small, painful ghosts of a bond that was thinning with every breath.
Alpha Damien’s promise echoed in the back of my mind. One message, and I’ll come. He had said it so firmly, so steadily, that I almost believed in the possibility of freedom. If I called, he would help me leave Cyrus. My heart trembled at the thought, but my pride kept me from pressing send. Some part of me still foolishly hoped Cyrus would turn his gaze back to me.
The sound of footsteps outside drew me from my thoughts. A metallic clatter followed, the delivery box. Curiosity pushed me forward, down the stairs, until I stood by the packhouse entrance.
The mailbox lay there, a plain container, but inside it… I froze.
A velvet case.
My fingers shook as I opened it. Inside glittered a ring, no, my ring. The one I had designed, painstakingly sketched, shaping every curve of the band and the placement of the diamonds. I had given Cyrus a copy of that design, half-teasing, half-dreaming, saying it was the ring I would want to wear on our wedding day.
And here it was. Real. Perfect.
Tears pricked my eyes. Was this his apology? His way of saying he was finally ready to give me a proper ceremony, a real marriage? My wolf howled faintly within me, hope sparking for the first time in weeks.
I slid the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly, like it had been waiting for me all along.
But then his scent swept in, Cyrus’s commanding presence filling the hall like a storm. His gaze locked on the ring, and instead of the warmth I craved, fury darkened his features.
“What are you doing with that?” he snapped, voice like a whip.
I stared at him, bewildered. “What do you mean? It’s my design. My ring. You had it made for me… didn’t you?”
His jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring. “That’s not for you.”
The words cut me open. My chest hollowed. “Not… for me?” My voice cracked. “Cyrus, aren’t you going to marry me for real now? Isn’t that why you had this made?”
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Marry you? Felicity, we are already married. What nonsense are you talking about?”
My breath hitched. Married. He always said that, clinging to the paper contract he had tossed my way years ago. But it had never been real. No vows, no ceremony, no recognition. Just a cold signature.
Before I could answer, a sickeningly sweet voice drifted in.
“Isn’t that the ring I wanted?” Dianna.
She glided toward us, pale as porcelain, her eyes watery with practiced fragility. My stomach twisted when I saw how her gaze lingered possessively on the ring still shining on my finger.
I stepped back, clutching my hand to my chest. “No. This is my design. I gave it to Alpha Cyrus long before you—”
“Enough!” Cyrus’s voice boomed, silencing me. His eyes burned with warning, not at her but at me. “Felicity, give it to Dianna. You know she’s sick. She deserves it more.”
My knees nearly gave out. “She deserves it?” My voice shook, disbelief and rage warring inside me. “You mean to tell me the ring I created, the one meant to be mine, belongs to her now? Alpha, how could you?”
His expression hardened. “Dianna’s sorcery is serious. I’ll do whatever I must to lighten her mood. If giving her this ring makes her happy, then so be it.”
Something inside me cracked. “You would do everything for her,” I whispered. “Give her a grand ring, a grand wedding… yet you never even gave me a proper one.”
“Because you’re not sick, Felicity!” he roared, eyes flashing with impatience. “You don’t need it.”
Silence fell heavy in the room. My hands trembled, my chest heaving.
Dianna pressed herself into Cyrus’s side, lowering her lashes. A single tear slid down her cheek. “I don’t mean to cause trouble. I just wanted to borrow him for a while,” she whispered pitifully. “Just a grand wedding, just to feel like I’m loved before I die. Isn’t that too much to ask?”
Her words were knives dressed in velvet. My wolf snarled inside me, but my body felt rooted to the floor.
Borrow him. Borrow.
The absurdity of it broke me. My laugh was bitter, raw. “No need to borrow,” I said, voice shaking. “Take him. Take it all. Everything I own—own it. I’m done fighting.”
I turned and walked away before my tears betrayed me further. Upstairs, I gathered everything that reminded me of Cyrus, gifts, clothes, letters, the trinkets he had once used to bind me to him. I carried them to the furnace room, my body trembling with every step.
The fire roared to life as I tossed them in. One by one, they burned. The lies, the empty promises, the fragments of a marriage that was never real. Smoke stung my eyes, but I didn’t look away.
Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around me from behind. His scent smothered me.
“Felicity—stop!” Cyrus’s voice cracked, uncharacteristically soft. He held me tightly, his chest pressed to my back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come to this. I just… I can’t let Dianna die. Please understand.”
His lips brushed my hair, his words trembling. “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take you out on a date, just the two of us. I promise.”
I didn’t answer. My body sagged against his, too weak to fight, too exhausted to hope. Silence was all I had left.
That night, I fell into restless sleep, only to be jolted awake by his urgent hands shaking me.
“Felicity—wake up!” His voice was sharp, desperate. I blinked, groggy, as his face loomed over mine.
“What is it?” I rasped.
His eyes burned with something I had never seen before—fear. “Dianna’s sorcery has worsened. The healers say there’s only one way to cleanse her.”
My stomach sank. “What way?”
His grip tightened on my shoulders. “Your wolf core.”
My blood turned to ice.
“You have to give it to her,” he said, almost pleading. “If you don’t, she’ll die. But if you do… you can leave. You’ll still live. Just powerless. Please, Felicity. Don’t let her die.”
My wolf screamed inside me, a sound of raw betrayal. I stared at him, the man I had once trusted with my life, and saw the truth. He wasn’t asking. He was taking.
And in that moment, I knew—I was nothing more than a vessel to him.
