Grace POV

The door slams behind me, and I'm alone.

My room. My fucking prison.

Damien's warrior stands outside—I can hear his breathing through the wood. Just one guard. Because what threat could a wolfless Luna possibly be?

I sink onto the bed, staring at nothing.

The mate bond screams constantly now, a raw wound that won't stop bleeding. Every time he touches her. Every time he—

I press my hands over my ears like that'll make it stop. It doesn't.

Days blur together.

The warrior changes shifts. Someone leaves food trays that I don't touch. Sunlight crawls across the floor, dies, returns. I watch it all from somewhere far away, like I'm underwater and the world is happening to someone else.

'He chose her.'

'He's always chosen her.'

'You were never enough.'

The thoughts circle like vultures, picking at what's left of me.

I don't know how much time passes. Could be three days. Could be a week. The bond pain is the only thing that feels real—sharp and constant and mine.

Then the door opens.

I blink, struggling to focus. The figure in the doorway sharpens slowly—pink dress, dark hair, that smile.

Lilith.

"Grace!" Her voice drips false sweetness. "You look terrible. Have you been eating?"

I don't answer. Don't move.

She glides into the room, shutting the door behind her. "I wanted to see you before tomorrow. To share some exciting news."

My throat feels like sandpaper. "Get out."

"Now, is that any way to treat a guest?" She perches on the edge of my dresser, examining her nails. "Especially when I came to tell you something important. Tomorrow's the pack assembly—you know, that big event where all the Alphas gather? Well, Damien asked me to be his companion."

The words take a moment to penetrate the fog.

"His companion," I repeat slowly.

"Mmm." Lilith's smile widens. "He said he needs someone who can actually represent him properly. Someone with grace and dignity. Someone with a wolf."

Anger flickers, weak but there. I grab onto it like a lifeline.

"Congratulations." I force myself to sit up straighter. "I'm sure you'll look perfect on his arm. The Alpha's mistress, on display for everyone to see."

Her smile falters. "What did you call me?"

"His mistress." I meet her eyes. "That's what you are, isn't it? The other woman. His dirty little secret."

"I'm not—"

"Sure you are." I stand on shaking legs. "You think going to one assembly changes that? You're still just the woman he fucks on the side. Not his Luna. Not his mate. Just his whore."

"Shut up!" Lilith lunges forward, grabbing the water pitcher from my nightstand.

The water hits my face like a slap, cold and shocking. I gasp, sputtering.

She stands there breathing hard, pitcher still raised. Then she laughs—high and sharp and wrong.

"Oh, Grace. You really have no idea, do you?" She sets the pitcher down carefully. "You think you can manipulate me? Use me to get what you want? Poor little Grace, trying to be clever."

I wipe water from my eyes. "I don't know what you're—"

"You want a divorce." She says it matter-of-factly. "You think if you make me jealous enough, I'll whisper in Damien's ear during pillow talk. Convince him to let you go."

My stomach drops.

"But here's the thing." Lilith leans in close. "I'm never letting you divorce him. Never. You're going to stay married to Damien forever, watching while I take everything that should be yours."

"Why?" The word comes out strangled. "If you want him so badly—"

"Because you deserve to suffer," she hisses. "You deserve to watch while the man you love forgets you exist. You deserve to feel every moment of betrayal, every humiliation, every—"

"What did I ever do to you?"

"You existed." Her eyes glitter with something dark and twisted. "But don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you."

She straightens, smoothing her dress. That pleasant smile slides back into place like a mask.

"Oh, and Grace? One more thing before I go." She pauses at the door. "Damien and I—we didn't just start yesterday. We've been together for a long time. Years, actually."

The room tilts.

"You never felt it through the mate bond because I used some... special herbs. Potions that mask the connection. Expensive, but worth it to watch you play the devoted wife while he was in my bed." She laughs softly. "You really are pathetically blind."

"You're lying." But my voice cracks.

"Am I?" She tilts her head. "Think about it. All those times he came home late. All those business trips. All those nights he couldn't bear to touch you. Where did you think he was?"

With her. He was with her.

The betrayal cuts deeper than anything before. Not weeks. Not months. Years.

"And Grace?" Lilith's voice turns poisonous. "Remember that rogue attack two years ago? The one where you lost the baby?"

My blood turns to ice.

"That wasn't random." She watches me with cruel satisfaction. "Damien arranged it. He sent those rogues. He wanted to make sure you could never give him an heir."

"No." The word barely makes it past my lips.

"Yes." She opens the door. "Sleep well, Grace. You have a lot to think about."

The door closes.

I stand frozen, water dripping from my hair, her words echoing in my skull.

'Years.'

'He arranged it.'

'The baby.'

My baby. The tiny life I'd carried for three months before the rogues attacked our border patrol. I'd barely survived. The baby hadn't.

And Damien—my mate, my husband—he'd ordered it.

He'd killed our child.

The scream tears out of me, raw and animal. I grab the pitcher and hurl it at the wall. It shatters. I sweep everything off the dresser—brushes, jewelry, picture frames. Glass explodes. I rip the sheets off the bed, overturn the nightstand, claw at the curtains until they tear.

The warrior pounds on the door. "Luna Grace!"

I don't care. Let him hear. Let them all hear.

I destroy everything I can reach, and when there's nothing left to break, I collapse among the wreckage, shaking with fury so intense it burns away the fog, the numbness, the despair.

'He killed my baby.'

'He's been with her for years.'

'He's taken everything from me.'

But I'm not dead yet.

I drag myself up, glass crunching under my hands. My reflection stares back from the broken mirror—wild-eyed, soaking wet, surrounded by destruction.

And for the first time in days, I feel something other than pain.

I feel rage.

'I'm going to make him pay.'

'I'm going to take back everything he stole.'

'Starting with my freedom.'

But first, I need to get out of this room.

I close my eyes, reaching for something I haven't touched in years—the faint thread of connection that ties me to my birth pack. Aurorawisp was absorbed into Darkrock after my father died, but we still carry that bond, buried deep.

I focus on one thread in particular. One person who's never stopped being loyal.

'Lori. Please. I need you.'

The mental call feels rusty, weak. I'm not even sure it'll work without a wolf to strengthen the link.

But then—

A shadow moves outside my window.

I stumble across the room, pressing my hands against the glass. A figure crouches on the ledge three stories up, dark clothing blending with the night.

Familiar eyes meet mine through the glass.

Lori.

He's here.