He Rejected His Luna for My Sister, Then Begged Me to Return

I cut my trip to my grandmother’s estate two days short because I missed my husband.

I wanted to surprise Damon. I had his favorite vintage wine in my tote bag, and our wedding anniversary was only three days away. But the moment I stepped onto the second floor of Blackridge Manor, the silence struck me as wrong.

Then came the scent. Heavy, sweet tuberose.

I wore citrus and cedar. I had never touched floral perfume in my life.

I walked toward the master bedroom. The double mahogany doors were pushed open an inch, spilling warm light into the dim corridor.

"Damon... stop," a woman giggled softly, breathless and wet. "What if she comes back early?"

"She won't," Damon answered. His voice was lower than usual, thick with heat. "Seraphina is still in the northern province until Friday. Stop worrying about my wife."

The air vanished from my lungs.

I shoved the door open.

The brass handle slammed hard against the wall. The heavy thud echoed across the high ceiling, cutting through the heavy musk in the air.

My husband was bent over the mattress, his broad back bare, his silver hair messy. Underneath him lay a girl wrapped in my emerald silk slip—the one Damon had bought me for my last birthday.

Her pale arms were looped tight around his neck.

It was Isla.

My half-sister.

The daughter my father, Victor Laurent, had fathered with his longtime mistress, Celine.

Damon froze. He pulled back, turning his head toward the door. There was no terror in his slate-gray eyes, only cold annoyance at being interrupted.

"Sera," he said flatly, straightening up.

"Get off my bed," I whispered. My throat felt like it was lined with broken glass.

Isla scrambled backward against the carved headboard, pulling the duvet over her bare shoulders. Tears flooded her blue eyes instantly, fast and practiced.

"Sera!" Isla cried out, trembling. "Please... don't look at me like that! It isn't what it looks like!"

"You're in my slip, Isla," I said, my voice rising until it cracked. "You're in my bed. Under my Mate."

Damon reached for his linen shirt from the bench, sliding his arms into the sleeves without rushing. "Lower your voice, Seraphina. You're screaming like a common lunatic."

"I'm screaming?" A bitter laugh ripped out of my chest. "I walk in on my husband fucking my sister, and you're telling me to lower my voice?!"

"Nothing happened," Damon snapped, buttoning his collar. "She was having a panic attack about the pack council elections. She came to talk. Things got out of hand. It’s not as serious as you think."

"Not as serious as I think?" I stared at him, my knuckles turning white against the doorframe. "You were kissing her! Your hands were on her waist! How many times have you done this while I was away?"

"Sister, please!" Isla sobbed, throwing herself toward the edge of the mattress. "Damon was just comforting me! I swear, I never meant to hurt you! I tried to stay away, but I felt so lonely, and—"

"Shut up," I snarled, stepping forward. "Shut your filthy mouth!"

Before I could take another step, Damon moved. He stepped directly between me and Isla, his tall frame blocking her completely from my sight. His jaw was set, hard as granite.

"That's enough," he warned, his voice dropping into that commanding tone he used on insubordinate soldiers. "Do not speak to her like that in this house."

"You're protecting her?" I stared into his eyes, searching for even a sliver of the man who had knelt before the pack altar and bound his soul to mine three years ago. "Damon, look at who she is! Her mother spent twenty years destroying my mother’s life. Celine tore my family apart, took my father, and parade around our territory like a queen! And now you bring her daughter into our bed?"

"This has nothing to do with Celine or your mother's ancient grudges," Damon said coldly. "Isla is innocent in this. You've spent years punishing her for Victor's sins. I won't let you terrorize her here."

"I terrorized her?" My nails bit into my palms until I felt the skin split. "She just took my husband!"

"Nobody took me, Seraphina!" Damon barked. "You push everyone away with your bitter pride! You’re stiff, you’re suspicious, and you act like being my mate is a royal obligation instead of a marriage! Isla actually needs me. She isn't afraid to show vulnerability."

"She's a viper," I spat, tears finally spilling hot and angry down my cheeks. "Just like her mother."

From behind Damon's back, Isla peeked out. Her lips were trembling, but her eyes were entirely dry. For a fraction of a second, the corner of her mouth ticked upward in a smirk.

A cruel, victorious smirk.

Twenty years ago, Celine stole my mother's home. Today, her daughter took mine.

Suddenly, a searing pain tore through the center of my chest.

It felt like someone had driven an iron hook into my ribcage and twisted it. I stumbled back against the wall, clutching my sternum, gasping for air. The mate bond—the sacred thread that tied my spirit to Damon's—was screaming, unraveling under the weight of his rejection and betrayal.

"Sera?" Damon's eyes narrowed, a momentary flicker of hesitation crossing his face.

"Don't touch me," I wheezed, shoving his outstretched arm away before he could reach me.

The physical pain of the bond snapping was agonizing, but it couldn't touch the hollow void opening up inside me. He had made his choice. He hadn't hesitated for a single second. When the knife was drawn, he stood on Isla's side.

"You really want her?" I managed to ask, straightening my spine despite the fire in my blood.

"I'm telling you to calm down so we can handle this rationally," Damon replied, his tone returning to that frosty detachment. "We will discuss the boundary lines and living arrangements in the morning. You're exhausted."

"Living arrangements?" I let out a dry, cracked laugh. "You think I'm staying under the same roof while you bed my half-sister?"

"You are the Luna of this pack," Damon said firmly. "You don't get to run away whenever you face a domestic dispute. You will sleep in the guest suite tonight. We talk tomorrow."

"There is nothing left to talk about."

I turned on my heel and walked away.

"Seraphina!" Damon shouted after me down the hallway. "Get back here!"

I didn't stop. I walked down the grand marble staircase, my boots hitting the steps with sharp, hollow strikes. Behind me, the house I had spent three years decorating, the home I thought was mine, felt like a mausoleum.

I pushed open the heavy front doors and stepped out into the biting night wind.

My hands shook violently as I pulled my phone from my coat pocket. My vision was blurred, the screen dancing with reflections of the courtyard lights.

There was only one person in this world who wouldn't tell me to endure it.

I tapped the screen and pressed the phone to my ear. It rang twice before clicking open.

"Sera?" Maya Sterling’s voice cut through the static, sharp and alert. "Aren't you supposed to be at the northern manor until Friday?"

"Maya..." I said. My voice splintered into pieces. "Damon... he..."

"Where are you?" Maya interrupted, her tone instantly hardening. "What did he do?"

"I came home," I choked out, wrapping one arm tightly around my burning ribs. "Isla was in my bed. Wearing my clothes. He kissed her. He stood in front of her and told me to back off."

Silence stretched on the other end of the line for three agonizing seconds. Then, I heard the sharp metallic jingle of car keys and the slam of a car door.

"Don't pack your things," Maya commanded, the engine of her sports car roaring to life in the background. "I'm coming to get you right now. Starting tonight, Sera, you no longer belong to this family."

"Maya, the mate bond..."

"Let it burn," she said ruthlessly. "Stand by the front gates. If Damon tries to drag you back inside, bite his throat out. I'll be there in ten minutes."

The line went dead.

I lowered the phone and looked back up at the third-floor window. The light in our bedroom was still burning bright, throwing the silhouette of two figures against the drawn curtains.

A sudden chill swept down my spine as a shadow detached itself from the manor's dark perimeter, watching me from the tree line.