Elara POV:
I stumbled back into the Alpha's house, the place I had once called home. The air within was heavy with his scent—pine and thunderstorm—but it was no longer a comfort. It was fouled now, mingled with the cloying, milky sweetness of Lyra and her pup. The mixture turned my stomach.
I couldn't stand it.
With a surge of desperate energy, I began to clear the room. His clothes, his books, anything that held his scent. I grabbed them, armful after armful, and threw them out the front door, onto the manicured lawn. I didn't care who saw.
As I tossed his favorite leather jacket onto the growing pile, a sleek black car pulled up the driveway.
Damien.
He got out, walked around to the passenger side, and opened the door for Lyra with a tenderness that made my throat close up. He carefully took the sleeping pup from her arms, his movements gentle and practiced.
"You can rest now," I heard him murmur to her. "This is your home."
An elderly warrior, one of the pack's respected elders, was walking by. He saw the scene and a wide smile spread across his face. He approached them, bowing his head slightly.
"A future Luna," the old wolf said, his voice filled with genuine warmth as he looked at Lyra. "Congratulations on giving our Alpha such a strong heir."
A chill traced its way up my spine, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood erect. This was how it began. A lie, repeated with sufficient conviction, calcifies into truth.
Damien didn't correct him. He didn't even flinch. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Lyra's shoulders, pulling her closer, and simply nodded. He accepted the title for her. He accepted the lie.
In the eyes of his pack, I was already gone.
He finally noticed me then, standing in the doorway amidst the chaos I had created. He frowned, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes.
"Elara," he said, his voice a taut line stretched thin with annoyance. He walked towards me, leaving Lyra by the car. "I was worried. Why did you not wait for me?"
"Why did you not tell him the truth?" I asked, my voice hollow, devoid of inflection. "Why did you permit him to call her your Luna?"
"It's just a title, Elara. Don't make a scene," he said dismissively, his patience clearly wearing thin.
The pup in his arms began to fuss, letting out a small cry. Damien's attention snapped back to it instantly.
"See? The pup is upset," he said, his tone turning to one of finality. "Lyra and the baby will be staying here from now on. If you cannot handle that, you can move into the Omega quarters."
The Omega quarters. He wanted to send his pregnant, fated mate to live with the lowest-ranking members of the pack.
The last flicker of hope inside me died.
