Chapter 34

The pain intensified until I could no longer differentiate between waves—it had become a constant, searing agony consuming every fiber of my being. My wolf clawed beneath my skin, desperate to break free from the torment, instinctively seeking escape.

I rolled onto my side, gasping for breath as another vision flashed through my mind—Raymond's hands on Giana's skin, their bodies intertwined. The mate bond transmitted each sensation with cruel precision, magnifying my suffering as their pleasure mounted.

"Stop," I whispered, though no one could hear me. "Please, stop."

But the bond showed no mercy. If anything, the pain intensified, my wolf howling with such ferocity that I feared I would shift involuntarily. The thought of losing control, of my wolf form rampaging through the pack house driven mad by pain, forced me to act.

With shaking hands, I grasped the edge of my dressing table, pulling myself upright through sheer force of will. My reflection in the mirror was barely recognizable—face pale and drawn, eyes wild with pain, hair disheveled from writhing on the floor.

Somehow I managed to pull on a simple dress, not bothering with shoes as another wave dropped me to my knees momentarily. When it subsided enough for me to stand, I staggered to the door, bracing myself against the frame before venturing into the corridor.

The hallway stretched before me like an impossible distance, each step requiring monumental effort. I focused only on my destination, on the one person who could ease this agony, despite his earlier rejection.

Kane.

Several pack members were still awake, returning to their quarters from the Gala. They stared openly as I passed, their whispers following me like shadows.

"Is that the Luna?" "She looks ill—or drunk." "After tonight's humiliation, I'd be drinking too."

I ignored them, clutching the wall for support as I made my way toward the guest wing where Kane was staying. Each step felt like walking on broken glass, the pain radiating from my neck through my entire body.

By the time I reached his door, I could barely stand. I leaned heavily against the frame, raising my hand to knock with the last of my strength. The sound seemed feeble even to my ears, but moments later the door swung open.

Kane stood before me, looking perfectly composed in dark lounge pants and an unbuttoned shirt. His hair was slightly damp, as if he'd recently showered. Not a trace of the evening's tensions showed on his face—only mild surprise at finding me at his door, quickly masked by a raised eyebrow.

"Luna," he said coolly. "This is unexpected."

I clutched the doorframe, fighting to remain upright as another wave of pain threatened to overwhelm me. "I don't want to interrupt your latest fling," I managed, bitterness seeping through despite my desperate state.

Kane leaned casually against the doorframe, affecting confusion. "Fling? I'm not sure what you mean."

"Please," I whispered, the word barely audible. "You know why I'm here."

His expression remained deliberately blank. "I'm afraid I don't. Perhaps you should explain."

The casual cruelty of his feigned ignorance cut deeper than I would have thought possible. After our arrangement, after all we'd shared, he would make me beg?

Before I could respond, the mate bond flared with renewed intensity, sending white-hot agony lancing through me. My knees buckled, and I collapsed, barely aware of strong arms catching me before I hit the floor.

"Aurora!" Kane's voice seemed distant through the haze of pain.

I clutched at his shirt desperately, all pride abandoned. "Please," I gasped, looking up at him through tears I couldn't control. "I can't—I can't bear it alone. Help me."

Something shifted in his expression—the cold mask cracking to reveal conflict beneath. For a heartbeat, I feared he would refuse again, would leave me writhing in agony in the hallway for all to see.

Then, with surprising gentleness, Kane lifted me into his arms and carried me inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

"You're burning up," he murmured, placing me carefully on his bed. His fingers brushed my neck, tracing the mate mark that pulsed with venomous fire. "It's worse than before."

I couldn't answer, could only reach for him blindly as another wave crashed through me. This time, he didn't pull away.

His touch was hesitant at first, almost tender as he gathered me against his chest. "I sent Lydia away hours ago," he said quietly. "There was never going to be anyone but you tonight."

The admission surprised me, but I had no time to process it as his lips found mine, his touch finally, mercifully, beginning to dull the edge of my pain.

Unlike our previous encounters—hurried, desperate couplings driven by physical need—this was something different. Kane moved with deliberate slowness, his hands tracing reverent patterns across my skin as if memorizing every curve and plane.

When he finally claimed me, it wasn't with the fierce urgency of before, but with a profound intensity that stole what breath I had left. The mate bond's pain receded, replaced by sensations entirely our own—not transmitted echoes of another's pleasure, but something real and immediate.

For the first time, I allowed myself to be fully present in the moment, to see Kane not as a convenient escape from pain but as himself—complex, frustrating, and unexpectedly vulnerable.

Afterward, Kane held me against his chest, one hand idly stroking my hair as our breathing slowed. The comfortable silence was a stark contrast to our usual hasty departures after such encounters. The mark had gone quiet, the bond temporarily satisfied.

"I was angry," Kane said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence between us. "Seeing you dance with Raymond after our dance—after what we'd shared—it felt like you were choosing him all over again."

I raised my head to look at him. "I didn't have a choice. He's the Alpha, my husband. If I had refused..."

"I know," Kane sighed, his arm tightening around me. "I know you didn't have a choice. That's what made it worse."

"Is that why you walked away when I needed you?" I asked quietly.

His expression darkened. "I was hurt. And jealous—something I'm not accustomed to feeling. It was... unsettling."

"Jealousy?" I repeated, genuinely surprised. "Of Raymond?"

Kane's laugh held no humor. "Of course. He has the right to claim you publicly. To dance with you without causing scandal."

The admission hung between us, freighted with implications neither of us seemed ready to address.

"I heard you," I said instead. "In the corridor with those women. They were mocking me, and you laughed along."

Kane stiffened. "You heard that?"

I nodded against his chest.

He sighed somewhat guiltily before admitting, "I suspected," resuming the gentle stroking of my hair. "I saw you slip away from the Gala. When those women started their vicious gossip, I played along to protect you."

"Protect me?" I lifted my head to look at him, confusion evident in my voice.

Kane's expression was uncharacteristically serious. "If they thought I had genuine feelings for you, the rumors would have been much worse. Raymond would have heard, and your position would become even more precarious."

I considered his explanation, uncertain whether to believe it. "So you didn't tell Lydia you were just using me to irritate Raymond?"

"Of course not," Kane said, his arms tightening around me slightly. "Is that what they said?"

I nodded against his chest, relief washing through me despite my lingering doubts.

"Aurora," he said quietly, "this may have started as a convenience for both of us, but it's become...complicated."

"Complicated," I echoed, the word inadequate for whatever was developing between us.

He shifted, drawing me closer against him. "I saw Raymond reject you publicly tonight. I saw the pain in your eyes that had nothing to do with the mate bond. I wanted to—" He cut himself off, shaking his head slightly.

"Wanted to what?"

Kane looked down at me, something vulnerable in his expression. "I wanted to hurt him for hurting you. That's never happened to me before."

The admission hung in the air between us, neither of us quite ready to examine its implications.

"We should sleep," Kane said finally, pulling the covers over us both. "Dawn will come too soon."

I settled against him, my body relaxed for the first time in days. As sleep claimed me, I realized the mate bond's pain had vanished completely, replaced by something warm and unfamiliar nestled in my chest.

Something dangerously close to hope.