Rhea
For years, I had been the subject of ridicule. Five years of being engaged without a wedding turned me into the pack’s favorite joke. The members of the Silver Hollow Pack murmured behind my back, their laughter laced with disdain.
But one night changed the course of everything. It was after the Full Moon Festival—I had been drinking, the night spinning into a blur. The next morning, I woke tangled in Alpha Draven’s sheets, my limbs sore and my thoughts hazy. And when our families discovered us together, entangled in those satin covers, the gasps of shock and horror were enough to decide my fate.
The marriage that followed was swift and loveless. The ceremony lacked warmth, and Draven’s resentment was palpable, hotter than any fire a mating bond could produce. He loathed me—blamed me for forcing him into a union he never desired. In my past life, I spent every waking moment trying to earn his affection, to prove I was worthy of the Luna title. But his heart had never been mine to win. It belonged to someone else.
This time, I wouldn't repeat those same desperate efforts.
That’s why I found myself in this grand auction hall now, surrounded by elites—rich wolves, noble-blooded Lycans, and commanding Alphas. My focus was locked on a single item displayed in a glass case.
A thin, intricately crafted silver bracelet, adorned with a softly glowing moonstone. My mother’s bracelet.
Two years before I died, I lost her. Her belongings had been seized, sold off, or lost. This was all that remained of her, the only physical memory I could reclaim.
I stepped forward, ready to place my bid. But then I caught a scent I knew too well.
Draven.
My body went rigid, instinct urging me to turn and vanish before he saw me—but it was too late. He was already at the front, scanning the room with that usual commanding presence.
And beside him stood Mirielle.
She clung to him sweetly, her expression wide-eyed and curious, like the entire event was a delightful storybook brought to life. As if she hadn’t stolen the life that should’ve been mine—piece by piece, lie by lie.
Clenching my hands at my sides, I stepped up. “Alpha,” I called out, keeping my tone calm though my chest churned with emotion.
He turned toward me, an eyebrow arching in momentary surprise before his expression returned to its usual cold neutrality. “Rhea.”
I didn’t hesitate. “That bracelet belonged to my mother. I want it returned to me.”
His lips twisted into something that resembled a smile, but the cruelty in it was sharp. “Mirielle has taken a liking to it.”
His words landed like a slap.
Of course. Why wouldn’t she? She had always desired what I had. And Draven? He gave her everything without question.
“There are plenty of other things up for bidding,” he added casually. “Choose something else.”
“I’m not interested in anything else.” My voice came out colder, firmer. “That bracelet is not just an ornament. It holds meaning. It was my mother’s—”
“She wants to experience moments like this,” he said, interrupting me softly, his voice turning gentle as he glanced at her, his gaze tender and affectionate. “She deserves these experiences.”
Something inside me cracked. I turned my back to him, forcing down the bitterness rising in my throat. If it was a battle he wanted, then he would get one.
The bidding began. I immediately raised my paddle, my offer clear and unwavering. For a brief moment, it felt like victory was within reach. The room didn’t seem interested. No one else made a move.
Then Draven placed his bid.
My stomach twisted into knots.
I raised mine again.
He followed suit.
Back and forth we went, the numbers rising, the crowd beginning to murmur in excitement. My heartbeat was a drum in my chest, my breaths coming shallow.
But in the end, I was outmatched. Draven’s final offer exceeded my limit.
He won.
As the bracelet was handed to him, a flicker of hope still remained in me. Perhaps—just perhaps—he’d offer it to me. Maybe a part of him still understood what it meant to me.
Instead, he turned to Mirielle and gently placed the jewelry in her eager hands.
Her face lit up with joy as she fastened it onto her wrist, her fingers admiring the gleaming metal. But she was reckless. Careless.
With a loud snap, the moonstone split. The silver links snapped apart. The bracelet collapsed, fragments scattering onto the floor.
I froze.
The world around me faded into a blur.
Mirielle gasped, lifting her hands to her mouth in alarm. “Oh no… Rhea, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to break it—”
I turned my back on her words. Kneeling, I gathered the shattered remains with trembling fingers and pressed them against my chest.
I left without a word.
I didn’t shed tears—not when I stepped outside that lavish hall, not when I arrived home at the packhouse. Not even when Mirielle, remorseful and weeping, fell onto the cold marble tiles and begged for forgiveness.
“I swear I didn’t mean to destroy it,” she whispered. “Please, Rhea. Let me make it right.”
I ignored her.
And when, in a desperate attempt to display how sorry she was, she knelt on coarse salt until her skin burned and bled, pleading again and again for my forgiveness—I remained silent.
Then the rains came. Thunder roared and wind howled as the storm drenched her. Still she knelt there, her thin body soaked and shaking.
I didn’t flinch.
That night, I slept deeply.
The next morning, shouts woke me. I stepped out to find a crowd gathered around Mirielle’s collapsed figure, unconscious from exposure.
I felt nothing.
But Draven did.
He stormed toward me, his rage barely contained. “Are you satisfied now?” he shouted. “Is this what you wanted, Rhea? You watched her kneel all night and did nothing!”
I met his furious gaze, noting the loathing in his eyes—as if I were some heartless monster.
And all I could think about was my former life.
A slow smile tugged at my lips.
Leaning in close, my voice was low, cutting, “Tell me, Alpha… who do you think is more heartless between the two of us?”
