Chapter 33

The final hours of the Gala passed in a blur of diplomatic conversations and carefully maintained smiles. I moved through the crowd with practiced grace, ignoring the whispers that followed in my wake. If anyone noticed the brittleness of my composure, they were kind enough not to mention it.

"Luna Aurora, the northern border proposal is quite generous," remarked the Silver Creek Alpha, studying me with unconcealed curiosity. "Your pack shows remarkable flexibility in these negotiations."

"Balance benefits us all, Alpha Kincaid," I replied smoothly. "A strong alliance serves both our interests."

His mate touched his arm gently. "The decorations are exquisite, Luna. The moonflower and silver birch pairing is inspired—connecting earth and sky. Your vision is evident in every detail."

The compliment, clearly meant as support, only deepened the ache inside me. The Gala that should have been my triumph as Luna had become another opportunity for humiliation, with Giana claiming credit for my work while Raymond paraded her as his true partner.

Several allied Lunas approached me throughout the night, their sympathy evident in meaningful glances and gentle touches on my arm. Though none spoke openly about my situation, their silent support offered small comfort in an otherwise unbearable evening.

"Your composure is admirable," whispered Luna Isabelle of the Crescent Valley Pack, her eyes darting briefly to where Raymond stood with his arm possessively around Giana's waist. "Few would maintain such dignity under the circumstances."

I inclined my head slightly. "You're very kind."

"Not kind. Observant." She squeezed my hand. "My first mate had similar... proclivities. If you ever need an ally, remember that not all packs share your husband's loose interpretation of mate bonds."

Before I could respond, she drifted away, leaving me both comforted and unnerved by her veiled offer of support.

"Luna Aurora." The eldest Luna, Marianne of the Northern Mountains, pulled me aside with surprising strength for one so seemingly frail. Her silver hair gleamed in the ambient light as she leaned close. "I've watched you all evening. You perform your duties admirably despite... difficult circumstances."

I inclined my head slightly. "Thank you, Luna Marianne. Your presence honors us."

Her weathered fingers tightened on my wrist. "A warning, dear one. The other packs are noticing. This unusual dynamic between you, your Alpha, and the rogue girl—it creates the impression of weakness. Some will seek to exploit it."

"I appreciate your concern," I replied carefully, "but I assure you our pack remains strong."

Her eyes, sharp despite her advanced age, saw through my diplomatic response. "Strong packs can crumble from within, child. I've seen it before." She glanced meaningfully toward Giana, who stood surrounded by a growing circle of admirers. "Be careful of that one. She has ambitions beyond what your mate realizes."

"What do you mean?" I asked, voice lowered.

Luna Marianne's expression grew grave. "She asks questions no rogue would know to ask. Her interest in council politics is... unusual. Watch her closely, Luna Aurora. The most dangerous threats often come wearing smiles."

Before I could press for clarification, she drifted away, leaving me with an uneasy feeling that only intensified as the night wore on.

As the Gala neared its conclusion, Raymond appeared at my side unexpectedly. His expression was unreadable as he studied my face.

"You look too happy for someone whose husband is openly with another woman," he remarked coldly.

I kept my voice level. "I'm performing my duty as Luna. What would you prefer? That I weep openly and confirm the whispers about our failing marriage?"

He glanced around at the dispersing crowd. "We should be seen dancing together at least once tonight. For appearances."

Of course. Appearances. The foundation of our entire marriage.

"As you wish, Alpha," I said, the formality a subtle rebellion.

Raymond led me onto the dance floor as the orchestra began the final piece of the evening. Unlike my dance with Kane, this one was stiff and formal, our bodies maintaining the maximum proper distance. Raymond's hand at my waist felt like a stranger's, his eyes looking anywhere but at me.

"Your dance with Kane was inappropriate," he said after several silent turns around the floor.

"So was your absence," I countered.

Our movements were mechanical, lacking any hint of the connection that should exist between mates. I noticed several allied Alphas watching us, their expressions speculative.

"This isn't working," Raymond muttered.

"A stunning observation," I replied, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice. "Perhaps if you actually treated me as your Luna rather than an inconvenient obligation—"

"Raymond!" Giana's voice cut through our tense exchange. She stood at the edge of the dance floor, her expression a perfect mask of distress. "Raymond, please! I need you!"

Without hesitation, Raymond released me mid-dance, leaving me standing alone as he rushed to Giana's side. I watched as he wrapped a protective arm around her, bending close to hear her whispered concerns.

Several nearby dancers paused, witnessing the Alpha abandon his Luna for another woman in the middle of a formal dance. The silence spread like ripples in a pond, conversations halting as all eyes turned to observe the tableau.

I stood motionless for a heartbeat, feeling the weight of dozens of stares. Then, with as much dignity as I could muster, I walked off the dance floor alone, my head held high despite the burning humiliation.

From across the room, I caught Kane watching the scene unfold, his expression unreadable. When our eyes met, he turned away, saying something to Lydia that made her laugh. The sound felt like salt in an open wound.

The Gala concluded shortly after, guests departing with final pleasantries that barely masked their curiosity about what they'd witnessed. I maintained my Luna smile until the last Alpha had left, then retreated to my quarters with legs that felt leaden with exhaustion.

Alone at last, I shed my formal gown and jewelry, letting them fall carelessly to the floor. The woman who stared back at me from the mirror looked hollow-eyed and brittle, as if the slightest touch might shatter her completely.

I was reaching for my robe when the first wave hit me.

Searing pain radiated from the mark on my neck, driving me to my knees with a cry I couldn't suppress. The mate bond—Raymond's mark—burned as if someone had pressed a hot brand against my skin.

Through the bond, sensations not my own flooded my consciousness. Raymond and Giana, their bodies intertwined, their passion heightened by the primal energy of the Gala.

I clutched at the mark, nails digging into my skin as if I could physically tear it away. My wolf howled in agony, both of us trapped in the torment of feeling our mate with another.

"Stop," I gasped, though there was no one to hear. "Please, stop."

The pain intensified, driving the breath from my lungs. I pressed my forehead to the cool floor, desperately seeking relief from the fire consuming me.

Through the fog of agony, I dimly registered a knock at my door. Before I could respond—before I could even move—the door opened.

Kane stood in the doorway, his formal attire from the Gala slightly disheveled. For a moment, he simply stared at me, sprawled on the floor in my undergarments, clearly in distress.

"Aurora?" he asked, taking a half-step forward.

I looked up at him, barely able to focus through the pain. "Kane," I managed, his name a desperate plea.

Recognition dawned in his eyes as he glanced at the mark on my neck. He knew what was happening—knew exactly what I needed from him.

For a heartbeat, I thought he would come to me, would offer the relief we both knew he could provide. Instead, his expression hardened, something like disgust flickering across his features.

Without a word, he stepped back and closed the door, leaving me alone with my pain.

The betrayal cut deeper than the bond's agony. I curled into myself on the floor, tears finally breaking free as the dual torture of physical pain and emotional abandonment overwhelmed me.

Kane had left me to suffer, just as Raymond had.

In that moment, I had never felt more utterly, devastatingly alone.