When I returned to the Skyler mansion with Alpha Vander, I saw Luther standing at the foot of the grand staircase, his face dark with jealousy, his piercing gaze locked onto Vander’s hand clasping mine.
His voice was sharp as a blade. "Why is she out of the basement?"
Vander stepped forward, his grip tightening protectively around my fingers. "Why the hell did you lock up your own mate? Left her to die in hunger and cold?" His voice was low, dangerous.
Luther scoffed. "She hurt Catherine—her own sister. And now she wants to harm the baby that will strengthen our bond."
I yanked my hand from Vander’s, stepping past him. "Enough!" My voice echoed through the grand hall. "I want a divorce, Luther."
His eyes flashed. "No."
The word was final, dismissive. As if my choice didn’t matter. As if I was nothing.
Days passed. I was trapped within these walls, unable to leave, unable to see Vander. Luther had barred him from entering the mansion, and the guards made sure I couldn’t sneak out either. I was a prisoner in my own home, suffocating in a golden cage.
I spent most of my time staring out the window, my mind racing for a way out. I couldn’t simply leave; it would damage my pack. A divorce wasn’t just between two people—it was political, a shift in alliances. Timing was everything.
Then, one evening, Luther came to my room. I didn’t look at him, but I felt his presence looming behind me.
"Catherine’s birthday is coming up," he said. "You’ll help prepare for it. It’s your only chance to apologize."
I turned slowly, my hands clenching into fists. "Apologize? For what?"
His gaze was cold. "For your jealousy. For making things difficult. This is your chance to prove you still have a place here."
I let out a bitter laugh. "A place? Do I look like a fool to you?"
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The answer was clear.
Catherine would always come first.
The night of Catherine’s birthday party arrived, and the mansion was unrecognizable. Elegant decorations adorned the walls, expensive wines flowed endlessly, and the grand ballroom sparkled with golden chandeliers. It was a celebration fit for Luna.
But Catherine wasn’t the Luna. I was.
I stood near the back of the room, unnoticed, watching as Luther paraded her around like she was his queen. The way he looked at her, the way he held her waist, it was something I had never received from him.
My own birthday had passed months ago. No celebration. No party. Just me, sitting alone while Luther claimed he had urgent packing matters to attend to. But now, seeing this—how he moved heaven and earth for Catherine, I realized how blind I had been.
The expensive gifts he had brought for her weren’t simple tokens of appreciation. The lingering touches, the stolen glances, the way he defended her at every turn—it wasn’t just favoritism.
It was love.
And I had been nothing but a placeholder.
The party carried on, the loud music and laughter filled the air. I was nothing more than a shadow against the walls, listening to the whispers that floated around me.
"Isn’t she the Alpha’s mate? Why is she standing alone?"
"It’s obvious, isn’t it? The Alpha treats her like a stranger."
"I heard Catherine is carrying his real heir. Maybe Cherry’s being pushed aside."
Their words dug into me like claws, tearing at wounds that had barely begun to scab over. My hands trembled as I turned away, my vision blurring. I couldn’t breathe. I needed to get out.
I spun on my heel, ready to escape, when a sudden screech rang through the ballroom. The microphone.
The music died. Conversations halted. All eyes turned to the stage.
And there, standing under the bright lights, was Vander.
My breath hitched.
His expression was calm, but his eyes burned with something fierce, something determined. He held the microphone in his hand, gaze sweeping across the crowd before landing on Luther.
"I won’t stay silent any longer," Vander’s voice carried through the room. "You all deserve to know the truth."
A murmur rippled through the guests, confusion and curiosity buzzing in the air.
"Alpha Luther has been lying to all of you." Vander continued. "Catherine was never Cheryl’s surrogate. She was never meant to carry the Alpha’s heir. Because she isn’t just a surrogate—"
He turned to Luther, voice laced with venom.
"She’s his mistress."
Gasps filled the room.
I felt my heartbeat slam against my ribs as every eye turned to Luther, to Catherine. Catherine’s face drained of color, her hands shaking as she stepped forward. "Vander, stop this. You’re ruining the party—"
"Oh, I’m not done yet," Vander cut her off. "I wonder, Luther—how long were you planning to keep up this act? How long were you going to pretend that Cheryl was your Luna when you’ve already replaced her?"
Luther’s fists clenched, his face twisting with fury. "You don’t know what you’re talking about."
"Don’t I?" Vander let out a cold chuckle. "Then why don’t we ask Cheryl?"
Silence. Everyone turned to look at me, and Vander gave me a look that silently urged—this was my moment to speak up.
