“Elyria,” Theron had whispered to me once beneath the glow of the full moon, his voice warm and intimate as he pulled me against his side near the packhouse balcony, “you would take care of me better than anyone else ever could. Even better than Marisella.”
At the time, his words had wrapped around my heart like a blessing.
“I love her,” he admitted back then with a careless honesty that should have warned me. “The Moon Goddess knows I do. I want her. But Marisella would always choose ambition over me if it came down to it.” Then his fingers brushed lazily against my shoulder as he smiled down at me. “You’re different, Elyria. You’re loyal. You’re the kind of woman who stays. The kind who serves her mate without question. And for that, I’ll give you the best life you could ever dream of.”
I had believed him completely.
Like a fool, I believed every single word.
I let him bind our names together before the pack elders without complaint. There had been no grand mating ceremony beneath the sacred moon altar, no feast filled with music and dancing, no flowers woven into my hair by laughing friends. The official union had been quiet and simple, witnessed only by a few elders and sealed through blood, moonstone vows, and signatures pressed onto ancient pack records.
At the time, none of that mattered to me because I loved him so deeply that I mistook scraps for devotion.
Now, looking back, I finally understood the truth I had refused to see for twenty-five years.
Theron never truly chose me.
Not first.
Not completely.
I had simply been the safe choice waiting behind him while Marisella chased the future she wanted.
And when she finally returned willing to stand beside him, I became unnecessary.
No.
Worse than unnecessary.
I became convenient.
The woman who cooked his meals, prepared his clothes, and warmed his bed while another woman occupied his heart.
The next morning, not a single person in the packhouse asked whether I had slept well. No one noticed the swelling around my eyes from crying through the night or the trembling in my hands as I poured morning tea into polished silver cups.
The great hall buzzed with excitement instead.
Servants moved in and out carrying traveling trunks while laughter echoed near the hearth. Rich fabrics and expensive cloaks were spread across the couches, their scents filling the air with lavender oils, fresh leather, and imported perfumes from the southern territories.
I stood quietly near the edge of the room with my hands clasped together, watching everyone admire garments and jewelry as though this were the happiest occasion in the world.
My son turned toward me with a grin that reminded me painfully of the little boy I used to rock to sleep during thunderstorms.
“Mother,” he said excitedly, “aside from the alliance meetings, we’ll also be attending a sacred union ceremony during the voyage. Can you believe it? The entire event is supposed to be magnificent.”
For one terrible moment, my heart stopped.
I forced myself to blink normally.
“A union ceremony?” I repeated softly.
Marisella stood several feet away near the hallway mirror, holding a flowing white gown against herself while one of the servants adjusted the fabric around her shoulders.
The sight alone made my stomach twist painfully.
Still, I managed to ask, “Whose ceremony is it?”
Father scoffed immediately as though I had asked something foolish.
“What interest would you possibly have in that?” he muttered. “You are remaining here to oversee the packhouse while everyone else is away.”
Then his gaze sharpened slightly.
“And since when do you care about gatherings like these? It is someone from Theron’s alliance circle. Matters beyond your concern.”
I smiled.
At least, I think I did.
The expression felt weak and unnatural on my face now.
“Of course,” I murmured quietly.
“Do not worry, Mother,” my son added with a laugh, entirely unaware that every word felt like another knife twisting deeper into my chest. “We will bring you gifts from the southern markets. I know how much you enjoy those herbal oils and moonstone perfumes.”
Marisella giggled softly behind him before adding sweetly, “And we will send enchanted mirror images during the voyage so you can stay updated on everything.”
My chest tightened so painfully that breathing became difficult.
Before I could answer, footsteps echoed from the upper hallway.
Theron descended the staircase wearing a dark formal tunic embroidered with the Darkmoor Alpha crest, looking far more alive than he ever had inside this house with me.
Without even greeting me properly, he tossed a pile of clothing directly into my arms.
“I need these pressed before sunset,” he said flatly. “And be careful with them. The fabric came from the southern packs and costs more moonstones than you could imagine.”
I lowered my eyes immediately.
“Yes, Theron.”
The morning of their departure arrived far too quickly.
The packhouse was filled with noise from sunrise onward. Servants hurried through the halls carrying trunks while voices overlapped constantly with instructions, laughter, and excitement. The scent of perfume oils and fresh parchment filled the air as final preparations continued around me.
And through it all, I remained exactly where I always was.
In the background.
Quietly fixing collars.
Folding scarves.
Brushing lint from cloaks.
Adjusting buttons with careful fingers no one ever noticed unless something went wrong.
Then suddenly, a sharp cry shattered the busy atmosphere.
“My dress!”
Marisella’s voice echoed through the upper hallway in panic.
Everyone rushed toward the sound instantly, including Theron.
I followed behind more slowly, only to find Marisella standing near the guest chambers holding the white ceremonial gown in trembling hands.
A tiny tear had formed near the lower hem.
It was barely noticeable.
But judging by the horrified expressions around the room, one would think the entire dress had been destroyed.
Theron’s eyes immediately landed on me.
Rage flared across his face without hesitation.
“Elyria,” he snarled, “what did you do?”
My breath caught.
“I-I did not touch it,” I said quickly. “I only sent it to the seamstress yesterday along with the other garments. Perhaps they accidentally—”
“I specifically told you to oversee everything personally,” he snapped furiously. “Why would you allow strangers to handle Marisella’s ceremonial gown?”
“I was careful,” I whispered weakly. “I did not mean for this to happen.”
“Do you have any idea how valuable this dress is?” Theron barked. “Can you repay it if something worse had happened?”
The entire room fell silent.
I could feel every pair of eyes on me.
Humiliation crawled across my skin like fire.
“It is alright,” Marisella said softly then, stepping forward with that same gentle expression she always used whenever she wanted to appear kind. “Please do not be angry with her.” Her eyes flickered toward me briefly before returning to Theron. “She is still your mate.”
Theron let out a cold scoff.
“Unfortunately,” he muttered.
Then, without even glancing at me again, he wrapped one arm around Marisella’s shoulders protectively.
“Come,” he said gently to her, his voice immediately softer than it had been with me. “We will purchase another gown before boarding the voyage ship.”
Then he threw the damaged dress directly into my arms.
The silk pooled heavily against my chest as I stood frozen in place.
Around me, everyone resumed moving again as though nothing had happened. Servants carried trunks downstairs while my son laughed about missing the tide schedule, and Father complained about how long the preparations were taking.
No one looked at me.
No one asked if I was alright.
And when they finally left the packhouse together, laughing and discussing the celebrations awaiting them aboard the Moon Tide Voyage, not a single person turned back before stepping through the doors.
Not even once.
