I stood in the corner of the den, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, as Araceli Griffin—a Delta in our pack—began to unbutton her shirt, letting the fabric slip away piece by piece. My heart clenched in my chest. Was she really going to strip down like this in front of my mate, the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack?
I glanced at Armando, my mate of ten years, and my stomach twisted. His eyes were alight with a fervor I had never seen before, not even when he painted his most prized works. His hands trembled slightly as he gripped his paintbrush, his focus entirely on her.
"Incredible," he murmured, his voice low but filled with awe. "In all my years, I’ve never seen such a vision of perfection."
His words cut deeper than I expected. For a decade, I had stood by his side as his Luna, trying to bridge the emotional distance he always kept between us. I had poured my heart into our bond, hoping to ignite even a fraction of the passion he now showed for her. But every time I tried to share my feelings, he would dismiss me with a curt, "I’m busy. Can you stop bothering me?" His coldness had become a familiar ache, one I had learned to endure. But this—this was something else entirely.
"Alpha Rivera," Araceli purred, her voice soft and teasing. "Am I your perfect masterpiece?" Her cheeks were flushed, and she bit her lower lip in a way that made my stomach churn. It was then I realized that Armando’s pursuit of perfection wasn’t confined to his art. It extended to her—a living, breathing embodiment of everything he had always seemed to crave.
"Yes," he replied without hesitation, his voice thick with admiration. "You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of, Araceli. I need you." He set down his paintbrush and crossed the room in a few quick strides, pulling her into his arms. His lips found hers in a kiss that was far from chaste, and I felt the room spin around me.
I stood frozen, my blood turning to ice. In the past, I might have stormed out, yelling and causing a scene. I might have demanded answers, demanded respect. But not this time. This time, I simply watched, my tears falling silently as the reality of his betrayal washed over me.
For ten years, I had given up my own dreams, my own ambitions, to be the Luna he needed. I had molded myself into the picture of elegance and grace, hoping to earn his love, his attention. But now, as I watched him fawn over her, I felt nothing but exhaustion. My wolf stirred within me, a low growl of pain and anger echoing in the back of my mind, but I silenced her. There was no point in fighting this anymore.
Armando pulled away from Araceli, his eyes still locked on hers, and I felt the weight of his indifference settle over me like a shroud. I had been a fool to believe I could ever be enough for him. And now, standing there, I realized I didn’t want to be.
