Siena, newly mated, offering quiet suggestions during strategy meetings. I’d dismissed her then, too blinded by pride to see what was right in front of me.
I’d wanted a Luna who would stand beside me, but I’d never given her the chance to be that.
The thought unsettled me more than I cared to admit.
“You’re distracted,” a familiar voice purred.
I barely registered Lila’s approach until she was draping herself across my lap, her touch possessive, her scent sweet as ever. Her fingers trailed along my jaw, drawing my focus back to her.
“Thinking about the competition,” I murmured, the lie slipping easily from my lips.
“You’re thinking of your Luna, which you should be!” Horace growled in protest, but I silenced him, shoving the unease deeper,
Lila’s lips brushed against my neck, her touch light but deliberate. “Mmm, well,” she murmured, her voice laced with seductive promise. “Maybe I can help you forget”
I forced a smile, running my hand down her back as she pressed closer. I should have been content. This was what I chosen–what I was supposed to want. But even as her lips found mine, I felt nothing.
And then, just beyond the corner of my eye, I saw her.
Siena
I’d
She stood across the room, her expression carefully neutral. But for a split second–just a moment–1 saw it. The flash of pain in her eyes before her mask slipped firmly into place.
It hit me harder than I expected, a sharp stab to the chest. Guilt. That’s what it was–raw and undeniable.
Why did it feel so damn wrong? She is the one who betrayed me, took advantage with taht wrietch of a father for more years tahn I cared to admit.
Lila shifted in my lap, pulling me back with all her might, to the present.
1 focused on her, on the woman who was supposed to be my future. But my thoughts kept drifting–to Siena, to the strength in her stance, to the fire that had never truly dimmed in her eyes.
Why can’t I let her go?
Chapter 42
Days of this competition passed, but the unease only grew. I could not escape her influence.
Siena was everywhere.
In the council meetings where her strategies were discussed–even the Alphas who had doubted her were now grudgingly admitting that her unorthodox methods had yielded undeniable results.
How could that be?
In training sessions where Windhowl’s warriors moved with newfound purpose, their confidence restored, their loyalty to her unshakable, the elders looked upon me as the fool. Did they know? Did they suspect that I had been too rash in my
dismissal?
And in my mind, where she lingered like a shadow, FOrvevr the victor and I hated it. Worse, I loathed her for it.
Zion noticed, of course.
He always did.
“You’re quiet tonight,” Zion murmurs, sliding onto the bench beside me. Around us, the feast roars with laughter and clinking cups. Warriors pass plates heaped with venison and berries. The mead flows freely.
“Just… tired,” I reply, pushing meat around my plate.
Zion snorts, “I doubt that very much.”
my untouched food.
I stare at my
“You’re thinking about her. His voice drops lower, barely audible over the celebration.
My jaw clenches. “Drop it”
“Raiden,” he says sofily, but there’s no mockery in his tone this time. “You can lie to everyone else. But not to me.”
Silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating despite the jubilant chaos surrounding us.
“It doesn’t matter, 1 finally mutter, watching Lila across the room as she laughs with the elders. “I chose Lila. It’s done.”
“Is it?” Zion’s gaze is piercing. He nods toward my white–knuckled grip on my cup. “Then why do you look like a man being torn apart from the inside?”
I have no answer for that.
I try to focus on my meal, on anything but Siena’s voice carrying from across the hall.
I try to focus on my plate.
The venison grows cold as conversations swirl around me.
She’s just across the hall.
My gaze betrays me, drawn to her like gravity. Siena sits among her warriors, her profile illuminated by firelight as she leans in to hear something Alpha Jared says.
“You’re staring again.” Horace mutters beside me, his voice low enough that only I can hear
1 jerk my attention back to my untouched meal. “Im not. Leave it,” I growl.
“This feast is to celebrate her victory. You haven’t even acknowledged her.”
16:23 Mon, 21 Apr
Chapter 12
The weight in my chest grows heavier. “What would you have me do?”
“What you
you want to do.Not what you think you should.”
He stirs, restless beneath my skin. “You chose wrong”
For once. I have no argument.
Across the room, Lila’s laugh rises above the gathering. The sound no longer warms me.
When had that changed?
My fingers tighten around my cup. “It’s too late.”
“Is it?” Horace asks, his gaze following mine back to Siena.
Constant.
Unyielding.
A walking reminder of everything I had–and might have lost.
I’m losing control.
