I stared at the ceiling of the bridal suite, counting the delicate roses carved into the crown molding. One hour passed, then two. Sleep refused to come.

The irony wasn't lost on me. Here I was, in a bed meant for newlyweds, alone on my wedding night while my husband was undoubtedly with another woman.

I couldn't stay here, surrounded by romantic trappings that mocked my reality. I slipped from the bed and changed into a simple dress, leaving behind the delicate lingerie that had been selected for a night that would never happen.

Without a clear destination, I wandered the halls of the resort, eventually finding myself on a secluded balcony overlooking the moonlit gardens.

"Well, well. If it isn't the new Luna, wandering alone on her wedding night."

I didn't need to turn to recognize Kane's voice, slightly slurred with alcohol.

"Not now, Kane," I said wearily.

He moved beside me, close enough that I could smell the whiskey on his breath. His suit jacket was gone, his shirt collar unbuttoned, tie hanging loose around his neck.

"Congratulations," he said, raising an imaginary glass. "You finally got what you wanted—married to Raymond. How's that working out for you?"

His words hit a raw nerve. "Exactly as expected."

Kane leaned against the railing, studying me. "And yet, here you are. All alone. While your husband is..."

"Don't," I warned, turning to leave.

He caught my wrist. "Where is he, Aurora? Where's your devoted husband on your wedding night?"

"Let go of me," I said, yanking my arm away.

Kane's smile faded. "He's with her, isn't he? Even tonight. Even after marking you in front of the entire pack."

"My marriage is none of your business."

"It's a farce," he said bluntly. "A lie everyone's pretending to believe."

"Like you're one to talk about honesty in relationships," I shot back. "When have you ever cared about anyone but yourself?"

His eyes flashed. "You know nothing about what I care about."

We stood there, tension crackling between us, when suddenly a sharp, searing pain radiated from my neck. The mark—Raymond's mark—burned as if acid had been poured over it. I gasped, clutching at it instinctively.

"Aurora?" Kane's voice shifted from taunting to concerned. "What's wrong?"

Another wave of agony swept through me, dropping me to my knees. In that terrible moment, I knew exactly what was happening. Raymond was with Giana, their mate bond activating, rejecting the false claim he'd placed on me.

Kane knelt beside me. "Is it the mark?"

I nodded, unable to speak through the pain. Instinctively, I reached for him, seeking any anchor against the storm raging through my body.

Kane's expression changed as he realized what was happening. "That bastard," he muttered. "He's with her right now, isn't he?"

I couldn't answer, another wave of pain stealing my breath. Distantly, I became aware of voices approaching—night patrol guards making their rounds.

"They can't see you like this," Kane said urgently. "The Alpha's new Luna writhing in pain on her wedding night? It would cause chaos."

Before I could protest, he'd swept me into his arms and carried me through a side door. The world blurred as he moved swiftly down corridors, finally stopping before a room I recognized as his guest suite.

Once inside, he set me gently on the edge of the bed. "I'll get help," he said, turning toward the door.

"No!" I gasped, grabbing his sleeve. "No one can know."

The mark throbbed again, white-hot pain lancing through me.

"Aurora, you need—"

"Distraction," I managed through clenched teeth. "I need... distraction from the pain."

Understanding dawned in his eyes. "Aurora, you're not thinking clearly."

I yanked him toward me with surprising strength. "If Raymond can be with Giana, why can't I..."

Kane's eyes darkened. "Do you know what you're asking?"

"Yes," I whispered. "Help me, Kane. Like you said you would."

He hesitated, searching my face. "This isn't how I wanted..."

Another wave of pain cut off whatever he'd been about to say. Acting on pure instinct, I pulled him down and pressed my lips to his with bruising intensity.

For one heart-stopping moment, he remained frozen. Then, with a growl that resonated through my very bones, he responded.

"Are you sure?" he asked one final time, his voice rough.

"I refuse to be a weeping bride on my wedding night," I said. "Make me forget, Kane. Just for tonight."

His eyes held mine for one final moment before he surrendered.

It was different from our first encounter—that had been clouded by the effects of the drug, a dream-like haze. This was sharp, clear, every sensation heightened by the knowledge that we were crossing a line that couldn't be uncrossed.

His hands on my skin burned hotter than the mark itself, temporarily overwhelming its pain with pleasure. I lost myself in him willingly, grateful for the oblivion he offered.

For those hours, I wasn't Aurora the dutiful daughter, or the rejected fiancée, or the Luna in a loveless marriage. I was simply a woman seeking comfort in the arms of a man who wanted her.

---

Clarity returned with the first pale light of dawn. I lay beside Kane, the weight of what we'd done settling over me like a shroud. The mark on my neck had gone quiet, a dull ache replacing the searing pain of the night before.

I slipped from the bed, gathering my clothes with trembling hands.

"Running away again?" Kane's voice was soft but clear, showing no signs of sleep.

I turned to face him, clutching my dress against my chest. "I need to get back to my room."

"No one can know about this," I added quickly. "Raymond—"

"Doesn't deserve your loyalty," Kane finished, sitting up. "But don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you. I should go."

"Not so fast," he said, his expression shifting to something more calculating. "This is the second time you've used me, Aurora. First, the night of your engagement when you were drugged, and now on your wedding night when you were in pain."

I stiffened. "I didn't use you."

"Didn't you?" His smile was knowing. "You came to me when you needed something, then tried to disappear when you got it."

"What do you want, Kane? Money?"

He laughed. "I have more money than I could spend in three lifetimes. No, what I want is much simpler."

He rose from the bed and approached me. "You need me, Aurora. And I find you... interesting. So why not make an arrangement that benefits us both?"

"What kind of arrangement?" I asked warily.

"Friends with benefits," he said simply. "No strings, no expectations beyond mutual pleasure when we both want it."

I recoiled. "I'm married now."

"To a man who spent his wedding night with another woman," Kane pointed out. "Don't pretend this marriage is real."

"This is ridiculous. I'm not going to—"

"You already have," he interrupted. "Twice. And both times, you initiated it."

The truth of his words stung. I had no moral high ground to stand on.

"I despise the way you treat relationships," I said, shaking my head. "Like they're disposable entertainment."

"And yet, here you are," he countered. "Again."

"Think about it," Kane continued, his voice softening. "We're both trapped in this charade of Raymond and Giana's making. Why shouldn't we find comfort where we can?"

Put that way, it made a twisted kind of sense. What was one more compromise when my entire life had become a series of them?

"Just sex," I clarified, hating myself for even considering it. "Nothing more."

Kane's smile was triumphant. "Nothing more," he agreed.

I finished dressing in silence, my mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. At the door, I paused, unable to look back at him.

"No one can ever know," I said quietly.

"Our little secret," Kane promised, his voice following me as I slipped away.

The walk back to my empty bridal suite felt like the longest journey of my life. With each step, I became more aware of what I'd agreed to—a clandestine arrangement built on mutual need and the shared secret of our betrayal.

It seemed fitting, somehow. My sham of a marriage would now be paired with a sham of a relationship, both built on contracts rather than love.

And perhaps most disturbing of all was the realization that, despite everything, I was already anticipating the next time Kane and I would meet.