3

The gardens behind the pack house had always been my sanctuary moonflowers curling around stone arches, glowing faintly at dusk. It was the one place Tristan rarely went unless he wanted something from me.

That night, the air was sharp, the moon cold and distant, as if it already knew what I was about to discover.

My wolf paced inside me, uneasy.

Something waits.

“I know,” I whispered. “But I need to see it.”

I walked between rose bushes and night-blooming lilies, trying to steady my breathing. The ring on my finger felt unbearably heavy, my heart strangely numb.

When the cold finally seeped into my bones, I turned back toward the house.

The hallway was dim as I climbed the stairs. Tristan had told me he’d be busy another vague excuse, another disappearing act. Lately, everything felt like distance. Soft lies stacked on softer lies.

My wolf froze.

Stop.

I halted.

Her scent hit me sweet, sharp. Unmistakable.

Liora.

Poison disguised as perfume.

I should’ve walked away. Any rational part of me would have. But rationality had no place left in the ache spreading through my chest.

My feet carried me toward the strongest trace of her scent Liora’s bedroom, the one she kept close to Tristan’s office “for convenience.”

The door was slightly open.

A sound drifted out.

A soft, breathless moan.

“Tristan…”

My breath shattered.

I moved toward the thin line of light, each step slow, each heartbeat heavier. I pushed the door open just enough to see.

And everything inside me went still.

Tristan’s body moved over hers, his hands gripping Liora’s thighs as he kissed down her neck. Their clothes lay scattered across the floor careless, intimate. Liora’s nails raked down his back as she pulled him closer, smiling that victorious smile she always flashed in my direction.

But it was his voice that ruined me.

“I’ll treat you better than I ever treated her,” he murmured against her skin. “You’re the one I want. You’ve always been.”

Something in me snapped quietly, finally. The last thread holding me together gave way.

My wolf whimpered.

He lies...

I stepped back slowly, forcing my breath silent, forcing myself not to collapse.

How long had this been happening?

In this house?

Under this roof?

Using Liora’s skin, her scent, her laugh and then coming home to me with the same hands, the same mouth?

My vision blurred. My heart felt too tight to beat.

I turned away before they could look up and see the exact moment they destroyed me.

I could’ve screamed, confronted them, dragged the whole room into chaos. Instead, a cold clarity settled over me sharper than grief, steadier than rage.

A death.

Not of my body.

But of the girl who loved him.

By the time I reached my room, numbness had wiped my tears away before they could fall. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the wall, feeling hollow.

Minutes passed.

Or hours.

Time dissolved.

Then the door creaked open.

I didn’t look up. I didn’t need to.

Tristan’s scent entered first pine, smoke… betrayal.

He approached with that gentle softness that once melted me and now made my stomach twist. He knelt at my feet and lifted my hand to his lips, as if those lips hadn’t just been on someone else.

“Are you tired?” he murmured. “You look pale.”

I stared into the golden eyes I once trusted with my life.

He smiled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Our mating ceremony is in three days,” he said. “Everything will be perfect. I promise.”

Perfect.

The word nearly made me laugh.

“You’ve been gone a lot,” I said quietly.

His eyes flickered surprise, guilt before his mask slid neatly back into place.

“Just pack matters.”

Another lie. Smooth. Effortless.

He pressed a tender kiss to my forehead, completely unaware that the woman beneath his touch was gone.

And the next time he reached for me, he’d be reaching for a corpse.