Chapter 2

"I'm coming. Don't worry, Tessa," Grant said, his voice warm and tender.

Then he turned to me. His face went hard and cold. "Get out of the car. Walk home."

I said nothing.

I got out, just as he told me to.

I'd barely gone two steps when it happened.

BAM!

A truck plowed into me on the county road.

I hit the ground hard. My wolf cried out, then went silent.

My vision went dark. The world slipped away, and my eyes closed.

I woke up in the infirmary.

A nurse stood by my bed, smiling in relief. "You're awake, good. Your wolf isn't hurt, just badly frightened. Do you feel all right? Why don't you call someone in your family to take you home?"

As I stirred, I heard Grant out in the corridor, talking on his phone. Paige's voice carried through the speaker. "Grant... take your time. You'll ruin the fun if you hurry."

I lay still while Grant's voice faded down the corridor. I never called out to him.

I tried to sit up, but my head was heavy and spinning, and I couldn't.

Tears slid out of the corners of my eyes and soaked into my hair and the pillow.

"You fool," I whispered to myself.

I remembered that even when he was chasing other she-wolves, he'd still looked after me.

If I nicked my finger while cooking, he'd scold me for being careless and haul me to the doctor, and he wouldn't calm down until the doctor swore I was fine.

But now?

He had no idea I was lying just down the hall. All he cared about was those three she-wolves.

A bitter smile pulled at my lips as I wiped my face.

I should have seen it long ago.

He would never stop chasing other she-wolves. When he got bored of one batch, he'd find another and use the same excuse every time: "I'm only looking for my true mate."

Not once had he thought it could be me.

Not once.

"Excuse me. This is for your medical bills. I'm so sorry. I was going too fast. I hope you're okay." A man stepped into my room, holding an envelope. "Here, please. My Alpha told me to give you $800."

He set it on the table by my bed and left before I could react.

I stared at the envelope for a moment, then stuffed it into my bag without a word.

I closed my eyes and let the darkness take me again.

On my way back to the den, my phone kept buzzing with news alerts:

Grant had hired a famous designer to make Moon Ceremony gowns for the three sisters. Pack jewelers had spent months sourcing the moonstones set in their rings.

Their so-called fairy-tale romance was everywhere: pack news sites, TV, local radio.

At the gate of our den, I noticed something odd: the passcode had been changed.

I tried it several times, and nothing worked.

I was still standing there, unsure whether to knock or walk away, when the door swung open.

Brooke stood in the doorway, arms folded, leaning on the frame with a mocking smirk. "Well, well... who's this? You look familiar, but I can't quite place you..."

Before I could answer, Grant hurried out, pulled me aside and whispered, "Mara, please. They're young and immature. Don't make a scene. Once I bond with them, my wolf's senses will finally wake up. Just put up with it for now, okay?"

I went rigid.

Behind him, Paige's voice sliced through the air. "Oh, is that Mara? I thought you two cut your bond. She isn't Luna anymore, right? So why is she back here?"

Then Grant spoke, calm, casual and cruel, "Mara isn't my Luna anymore. She's got nowhere else to go, so I'm letting her stay on as the help."

I stared at him, stunned, my chest aching with disbelief.

He wouldn't even look at me. He just squeezed my arm lightly, as if to say, "Put up with it."

Tessa strolled into the middle of the hall and started giving orders like she owned the place. "Clean up that mess. Now!" she snapped, folding her arms with a smug look.

I swallowed my humiliation and clenched my teeth behind a fake smile.

Not now, I told myself. Not yet. There were still things I needed to take from this place.

I picked up a broom and went into the hall. Trash and empty boxes were scattered everywhere. As I swept it all into a bin, something small and broken caught my eye.

I stopped.

A thin necklace lay in the rubble, its string snapped and tiny pearls rolling across the floor. I stood there gripping the broom.

"Why are you just standing there?" Tessa called out. She came over, glanced at the broken necklace and said carelessly,

"Oh, that? Grant thought it'd go with my dress, but I told him it looked ancient. So I threw it out." She watched my face, waiting for it to sink in what she'd thrown away.

I bit my lip until I tasted blood. My wolf paced and clawed under my skin, but I held her back.

That necklace was my mom's gift on my fourteenth birthday. Her last one.

She died only days later.

For all these years I'd kept it close. I wore it when I missed her and held it when I cried alone. And now it had been tossed out like trash.

My eyes blurred. Before I could find words for what Tessa had done, Grant walked in.

He didn't say a word. He just dropped a thick wad of cash on the table beside me. "It's an old necklace. This should cover it."

My hands shook. I grabbed his sleeve, choking on sobs. "Grant, you know what that necklace meant to me. It was from my..."

Before I could finish, he threw another handful of bills right in my face. "Is that enough? You can buy a dozen more just like it."

The bills drifted down around my feet.

Then even his fake patience ran out. "God, enough of this pathetic act! I don't have time for your games!"

With that, he turned and strode off, the three she-wolves trailing behind him, laughing.

When they were gone, I sat alone on the hallway floor with the broken pearls scattered at my feet.

I went upstairs. The second I opened my bedroom door, I stopped dead.

My dresses were crumpled in heaps.

My shoes had been kicked around like garbage.

My books had been ripped off the shelves and trampled across the floor.

It looked like a storm had torn through.

I stood in the doorway a moment and shook my head with a bitter sigh.

None of it mattered now.

Clothes, shoes, even books. They were only things.

I looked at the wall.

My mom's photo still hung there, crooked.

My breath caught as I walked over and gently took it down. I wiped the dust off the glass with shaking fingers and held it against my chest.

"It's okay," I whispered. "As long as I still have this photo."

I sat on the edge of the bed and pressed my face against the frame. It was the only piece of her I had left.

Then I noticed something else.

The little cushion by the window, where my cat always curled up to sleep, was empty.

My heart sank.

She'd kept my mother company through the worst of her illness.

After Mom died, the cat became mine. She was my only real family.

Where was she?

Then Brooke's voice echoed in my head, "That mangy thing scratched my socks! Stupid cat. Someone should've thrown it out already."

Panic shot through me.

I ran into the hallway and found Grant standing outside the door, pretending he hadn't heard.

"Where's my cat?" My voice cracked as I rushed toward him. "Grant, where is she?"

He said nothing.

He didn't even blink.

He just stood there, cold and unmoved, like a stranger I'd never met.