I took one step forward. Just one. My body screamed to strike, to tear, to reclaim something sacred. But I didn’t.
Because the real wound came from him.
Thorne laughed drunkenly, gaze fixed on her like she was the only thing left worth seeing. “Camille’s beautiful,” he mumbled. “She smells sweet. Peaches.” His smile twisted. “My Luna just smells like soap and complaints.”
They went upstairs together, his weight resting on her, her laughter floating down the hall like a victory song.
And I understood then—they hadn’t destroyed me.
They had simply replaced me.
I waited—not because I still hoped, but because I needed certainty.
One hour passed. Then another. The lights upstairs stayed on.
Then the sound came. Soft at first. Then unmistakable. Rhythmic. Close.
My blood turned cold. My wolf surged, dragging me forward against my will. Each step upstairs felt like walking on stone, each breath sharp and burning. The hallway stretched endlessly toward the bedroom—the Alpha’s room. The room that had once been mine.
The door stood slightly open.
I saw everything.