Chapter 2 The Sound of Laughter

Nyssa POV

Cassian Holt might think me weak. He might think me naive, soft, and easy to ignore. But I’d ruled Moonfang while he chased whores and whiskey. The pack thrived because of me. The wolves were fed because of me. The keep was still standing because I had refused to let it fall.

And tonight, I would remind my husband what power looked like. I turned toward the door, and Vianna’s low hum echoed beneath my skin. "He doesn’t deserve the sight of you."

“No,” I agreed. “But I’m not doing it for him.”

As I left the room, moonlight spilled through the tall windows, bathing the hall in silver. My heels clicked in rhythm with my heartbeat. For a moment, I let myself imagine another life, one where mates still meant destiny, where love was sacred, where betrayal wasn’t a currency traded between Alphas.

But that world was gone. This one belonged to wolves like me.

The smell of roasted venison drifted through the hall as I made my way toward the dining chamber, and my heels clicked against the stone. I passed the kitchen first, always my favorite stop before a meal, if only because the company there was kinder than anything waiting at the high table.

Greta spotted me the moment I stepped in. Her brows lifted, and her hands planted firmly on her hips. “Sweet moon above, Luna. You look like sin dressed in silk.”

Delia whistled from beside the oven, fanning herself with a towel. “If Alpha doesn’t choke on his tongue tonight, I’ll eat my apron.”

I smiled, pretending the compliment didn’t sting. “You’ll get indigestion if you do that.”

Greta smirked. “Still worth it to see his face.” The kitchen staff laughed softly, and I let them, their warmth was a balm against the coldness that waited upstairs. The cooks moved like clockwork around me, setting platters onto trays, and the steam curled up like ghosts.

I took one last glance in a copper pan’s reflection, the red dress hugged every line, my hair cascaded in soft curls, and my green eyes were bright and steady. If he was going to treat me like a trophy, I would at least remind him of what he’d thrown aside.

"We shouldn’t have to remind him," Vianna murmured darkly. "He should already know."

“He doesn’t know anything anymore,” I muttered under my breath. Greta arched a brow, and I covered it with a smile. “Just talking to myself.”

“Talking to that wolf of yours, more like,” she said, shooing me toward the door. “Go on. Make them sweat.”

I chuckled and obeyed.

By the time I reached the dining hall, Cassian, Rowan, and Torin were already seated at the long oak table, surrounded by half a dozen lieutenants and advisors. The hum of male voices filled the air, trade agreements, border disputes, and talk of steel and strategy. The usual noise of men who believed they ruled the world.

I lingered in the doorway, unseen for a moment, gathering myself. Then I stepped in. Conversation stumbled to a halt like a carriage thrown off course. Heads turned. Forks froze midair. One man actually choked on his drink.

Perfect.

I let the corner of my mouth lift, not a smile, exactly, but something sharper. The red silk of my gown shimmered in the candlelight, and every step was deliberate. My heels clicked a rhythm, echoing through the vaulted space like a countdown.

Cassian glanced up once. Just once. His gaze skimmed over me and moved on, bored.

Something inside me cracked like ice underfoot. Rowan cleared his throat, trying to fill the silence.

“Luna,” he said with a polite nod, his voice thin. “You look… radiant this evening.”

“Thank you, Rowan,” I said, taking the seat beside my husband as though I couldn’t feel the chill radiating from him. “I thought the table could use a bit of color.”

Delia’s venison arrived a moment later, rich and steaming. Plates were set, and goblets were refilled. I unfolded my napkin, keeping my expression serene while the men resumed their talk.

War. Trade. Territory. Ale shipments. The same empty words they always spoke, as if dominance alone made them great.

I listened, smiled when required, and said nothing. My silence had become my armor, quieter than Vianna’s growl, and stronger than any blade.

Cassian didn’t look at me once. Not when he spoke of treaties, not when he laughed at one of Torin’s jokes, not even when his hand brushed the wine glass near mine. I might as well have been invisible.

At last, he pushed back his chair. “I’ve had enough for tonight,” he said curtly. His tone was clipped, and his eyes were already elsewhere. “Rowan. Torin. We’ll continue this in the morning.”

Rowan nodded respectfully, and his expression was soft with something like pity when his gaze met mine. Torin, on the other hand, smirked, the kind of smirk that made my skin crawl before standing abruptly and following Cassian out.

The door shut behind them with a hollow thud.

I sat there a long moment after they were gone, the hum of voices fading as the others resumed their meal. My knife cut through the venison mechanically. I chewed, swallowed, and kept my chin high. I would not cry in front of them.

When the hall emptied, I rose, gathering the folds of my gown. The moonlight spilling through the arched windows painted silver across the floors, and for a fleeting second I let the serenity of it sink in. If nothing else, the moon still watched. The goddess still saw.

The corridor toward our chambers curved past the servant wing. It was narrow, and lined with flickering sconces. It was quiet except for the distant laughter echoing from the maids’ quarters. High-pitched giggles, and low murmurs. Then a thud. Another burst of laughter.

I slowed.

"You hear that?" Vianna whispered.

“I do.” My heels clicked softer now, careful steps as I approached the small door at the end of the hall. The laughter grew clearer. A man’s voice. Another giggle. Something rhythmic, a slap, flesh against flesh.

My stomach sank.

“No,” I breathed. “He wouldn’t.”

"Wouldn’t he?"

The door was cracked open, and light spilled into the hall. I pressed my fingers to the wood and pushed. The scent hit first, musk, sweat, and arousal, thick and unmistakable.

Then the sound, a sharp moan, half-laugh, half-plea.

And then, the sight.

Cassian. Naked. On his back.

Mari straddling him, equally bare, her hair falling in loose waves over her flushed skin.

Beside them, Torin leaned over Cora, his handprint red on her hip, laughing as he spanked her again. And Tess, dear gods, Tess stood beside the bed, with a belt in her hand, whipping it lightly against Mari’s thigh as she rode my husband.

For one heartbeat, no one noticed me.

Then the door slammed against the wall.

The sound froze them all mid-motion. Mari gasped, and her eyes were wide. Cora yelped and tried to cover herself. Tess dropped the belt with a thud. Torin turned, his smirk collapsing into horror.

Cassian just stared.

“Luna...”

My hand trembled against the doorframe, but my voice, when it came, was ice. “Am I interrupting something?”

No one spoke. The air itself seemed to shrink. Cassian stood slowly, unashamed. He didn’t even bother to cover himself.

“You should knock,” he said, his tone flat. “It’s rude to barge in.”

Vianna roared inside me, her claws scraping against the walls of my mind. "Let me kill him. Let me kill them all."

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t blink. My chest burned as I looked at them, my husband, and my staff, my humiliation laid bare like a twisted play.

Mari started to cry. Tess mumbled something that might have been an apology. Torin reached for his pants, muttering curses.

Cassian sighed, bored. “Get out, all of you.”

No one moved.

I didn’t move either. My tears had dried to salt, and my heart beat somewhere far away.

Vianna’s growl turned to words, "You see now? You see what he is?"

“Yes,” I whispered. “I see every

thing.”

And for the first time, Cassian flinched when he looked at me. Silence pressed so thick I could hear the fire crackle in the hearth.

Mari, Cora, and Tess stumbled out first, clutching their clothes, their faces blotched and red. Torin followed, muttering a curse as he buttoned his pants, and the door slammed behind him.

And then it was just Cassian and me.

He didn’t bother covering himself. Didn’t apologize. He only reached for a decanter, poured himself a drink, and took a long swallow as if I were some tiresome meeting he needed to finish.

When he finally looked at me, there was nothing left of the man I’d once tried to love.

“You really thought you mattered?” he asked, his tone almost lazy.

“You were always replaceable, Nyssa. Pretty, obedient, and convenient. But love?”

He laughed, a low, humorless sound. “I never loved you. I never could.”

Each word slid through me like a blade, clean and cold. For a heartbeat I almost waited for Vianna to snarl, for my wolf to rage.

But she was quiet.

So quiet that when I finally nodded, the motion felt distant and mechanical.

“Thank you for the truth,” I said.

He blinked, maybe expecting tears or a scream. I gave him neither. I simply turned and walked out, closing the door behind me. The sound was soft and final.

I moved through the corridors like a ghost. Every wall, every torch, and every scent of pine smoke belonged to memories that weren’t mine anymore. My chambers were half-lit when I entered, and the red dress still clung to me like armor that had already seen battle.

I didn’t hesitate.

I pulled a duffel from the closet, filled it with the essentials, cash from my safe, clothes that weren’t embroidered with the pack crest, and a few pieces of jewelry I could pawn if I needed to. My hands didn’t shake. They didn’t even tremble.

At the desk sat a tablet linked to the pack’s treasury. I logged in with my code, ignored the warning prompt, and transferred half of the pack’s liquid assets into my own account.

It wasn’t theft. It was debt collection. Payment for years of silence, for every wound I’d swallowed and every night I’d slept alone while my husband entertained others.

"Half for us," Vianna murmured. "Half to start over.

“Half to survive,” I whispered.

I shut the tablet, slipped it into my bag, and changed into jeans, boots, and a thick jacket. The air outside would be biting, autumn in the Adirondacks always carried that first edge of winter.

My phone’s screen glowed in the dark. For the first time in my life, I used a human cell phone app.

Request a ride.

The map blinked, showing the dense forest that surrounded Moonfang territory. I hiked out through the back path, away from the guards, and away from the keep, following the narrow trail that led to the edge of Adirondack Park.

The forest was alive with sound. Crickets, wind, and the low hush of the river beyond. I breathed it in, it was cold and clean. My heels sank into pine needles, then gravel.

Vianna padded inside my chest, silent but watchful.

"You’re really leaving."

“Yes.”

"And you won’t look back."

“No.”

The trees thinned, revealing the edge of a two-lane road that cut through the park. Cell service flickered to life, weak but enough. I typed the address into the app, Lake Placid, New York. It was the nearest town large enough for a hotel, a bank, and a new beginning.

Within minutes, the screen confirmed: Your driver, Nathan, arrives in 6 minutes.

Six minutes. That was all that stood between me and freedom.