Rhea
The flames danced wildly, consuming every last remnant of the life I had once desperately clung to.
Elegant gowns, ornate jewels, luxurious fragrances—tokens from my engagement to Alpha Draven—now vanished in a blaze. Not because I held sentiment for them, but because they were meaningless. Each gift had been a formality, a transaction devoid of affection. Draven never picked them himself; his parents orchestrated every detail, feeding the illusion of a fairy-tale bond while he hardly even acknowledged me.
I used to be naïve. I truly believed that even if love wasn’t there from the start, maybe time would change that. That perhaps loyalty would bloom into something deeper.
But affection cannot take root where resentment is the only soil.
I stared into the fire, watching the last silk strip curl into ash, the scent of burning memories heavy in the air. Of all the things I discarded, one remained untouched.
The heirloom of the Silver Hollow Pack.
A pendant of age and power, inscribed with the crest of the pack—meant to adorn the neck of the Luna. A role I would never fill.
My fingers curled around it tightly. This was never meant for me. And now, I would return it.
With the pendant gripped in my hand, I turned and moved toward Draven’s quarters.
The corridor leading to his room was dim, torchlight flickering across stone walls and casting trembling shadows. My steps were silent. I was a ghost in the halls, guided only by instinct and purpose.
The door was slightly open.
Voices slipped through the crack, low and tense. I froze, breath caught in my lungs. Mirielle was inside.
I didn’t have to look. I could picture it already—her small form tucked into his arms, her tears soaking into his shirt as he held her, whispered to her, comforted her. Just as he always had.
My grip on the pendant tightened. I remained in the shadows, listening.
“I-I’m frightened,” came Mirielle’s trembling voice, thick with emotion. “What happens to our child if… if Rhea ends up pregnant after the mating rites? What will we do then?”
My body went still.
A child?
My heart pounded as I waited for Draven’s response, barely daring to breathe.
“She won’t,” he said quietly, his voice steady, assured.
“But what if—” she began again.
“I’ve taken precautions,” he cut in, calm and resolute. “She’ll never carry my heir. The potion’s ready. She won’t taste it in her drink, but it’ll make her barren—permanently.”
My entire world reeled.
Sterile. Permanently.
He had never once considered a life with me. I wasn’t even a possibility in his future. To him, I was something to eliminate—an inconvenience. A means to an end that he intended to cut off, quietly and cruelly.
All this time, I believed his coldness was due to indifference. That he didn’t love me, that he couldn’t. But I had never imagined this level of calculated malice. That he would go so far as to destroy my ability to have children just to preserve his life with her.
I should have felt fury. I should’ve burst into that room, flung the pendant at his feet, confronted him with every ounce of betrayal.
But I didn’t.
I did the opposite.
I stepped away, quiet as moonlight, and disappeared down the corridor.
Back in my room, I opened my bedside drawer with steady hands and pulled out a second phone, the one I hadn’t touched in months. My fingers moved with certainty, dialing a number etched into my soul.
The line connected after a few rings.
“Rhea?” my father’s voice rumbled on the other end, familiar and firm.
I closed my eyes, voice low but unwavering. “I’m coming back, Father.”
A pause stretched between us before he replied, “The ceremony… did something happen?” His voice softened slightly. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“I’m sure,” I answered without hesitation.
His exhale came through the line, laced with both relief and something more—perhaps understanding. “Then come home. We’re waiting.”
I felt something inside me loosen, as if a great burden had finally begun to lift. But just as I was about to end the call, another notification flashed on the screen.
An incoming call. Alpha Damon.
I paused only for a second, then answered.
“Rhea,” his voice was smooth and self-assured. “Everything is in place. Just give the command, and your mating ceremony with Draven will be nothing but ashes.”
