Chapter 3 3

Aurélie POV

The cold air outside the Alpha mansion bit softly against my skin as I led Geneviève toward the front grounds. I needed somewhere out of earshot somewhere quiet, where words couldn’t be carried back to curious mouths. Élodie and Denise were working behind the house, which meant this conversation would remain between us. Exactly how she wanted it.

Geneviève turned to face me, the shift in her energy immediate. Beneath her honeyed exterior, a chill radiated from her subtle, but laced with venom. My wolf felt it like claws dragging over her instincts and whimpered low in my mind. This woman reeked of threat.

“I was a little surprised,” she said, a mockery of sweetness coating her voice, “that you get the front guest rooms and Damien let me stay in his old rooms. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

Her fake laugh was sharp as broken glass, and my spine stiffened under the weight of it. Fabrice’s warning echoed at the back of my mind she wasn’t here as a victim. She was here with purpose. A motive. And I wasn’t about to let her unravel everything I had bled for. I’d left my family, my old pack, and built a place here two years as Luna of the Bloodnight Pack. I had earned my place. And I would fight for it.

“Geneviève.” My voice hardened, my polite Luna mask slipping like silk off a blade. “We’re alone now. Whatever you came here to say, say it.”

The transformation in her was instantaneous. The wide-eyed, chirping she-wolf was gone, replaced by something feral. Predatory. The curve of her lips held no warmth, only calculation.

“Then I’ll make it very clear,” she sneered, the words slithering from her like poison. “I want to be Luna of this pack.”

My breath hitched. “But I am the Luna.”

Her laugh was quiet but laced with cruelty. “You’re not though, are you? You’re not marked. He’s been waiting… for something. Or someone.” The smirk she wore glimmered with cruel certainty. “If I hadn’t left, I’d already be marked. I mean look at you.” Her gaze slid over my plain clothes like a blade dissecting flesh. “And then look at me.”

Her words sliced through the fragile armor I’d built. I’d worked for respect in this pack fought for it, earned it. The council trusted my diplomatic mind, Damien trusted me to lead in his absence. I wasn’t here to preen around in high heels barking orders. I was here to serve the pack, even if my mate refused to meet me halfway.

But her voice was relentless. “Two years married and he still hasn’t marked you.” She laughed, a low, cold sound. “You clearly don’t satisfy him. I always made him happy. No complaints.” Her smirk dripped with wicked memory.

A sour sickness burned in my throat. Her words weren’t just aimed at me they were daggers at the child growing inside me. The thought of her wrapped around him while I was left in a separate room made my skin crawl.

“Well,” I managed, voice tight, “you seem well informed.”

“Of course I am,” she purred. “I came back for one reason. And you, little Luna, won’t stand in my way.”

She stepped closer, her eyes flashing something dark and hungry. Instinct forced me to retreat a step, the wolf inside me baring its teeth to protect what was mine what belonged to my child.

“Geneviève,” I said slowly, “I am married to Damien.”

She tilted her head, her grin a cruel slash across her face. “A marriage without love… You should consider ending it. It would save you the heartbreak.”

No. I wouldn’t listen to this. I refused to let her turn my marriage into ashes. The child in my womb would bring Damien and me closer I had to believe that. He wasn’t entirely cold. Somewhere beneath that hard exterior, there was something worth holding onto.

“You’ve been gone a long time, Geneviève. What makes you think he still feels anything for you?” I forced the words out steady.

She let out a breathy laugh, almost pitying. “Oh, Aurélie. I’ve seen our photographs tucked away in his desk drawer. If he didn’t love me, they’d be gone. But they’re still there. Just like me. And yet… no pictures of you. Not a single one. It’s almost like you don’t even live in that mansion. But don’t worry,” her grin widened, sharp as a wolf’s bite, “you soon won’t.”

The ground tilted beneath me. I tried to keep my face neutral, but her words carved panic into my chest, threading cold fingers through my ribs.

And then his scent. Familiar. Disorienting. My heart stuttered.

She noticed him first, of course. Her back straightened, breasts pushed forward, her entire demeanor softening into something sugar-coated and false.

“Damien.” She practically purred his name, rushing toward him in a practiced sway that made her chest bounce against the thin fabric of her top. She laid a hand on his arm, caressing it like it was hers to touch.

Anger licked up my throat like wildfire. My ears burned hot as the emotion rose, foreign and feral.

“I wondered where you both had gone,” he said, his eyes landing on me for the first time all day. “What are you doing?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut me off like a blade across the throat.

“I was just thanking Aurélie for helping the staff clean up my room. She’s done a superb job.” Her lashes fluttered like a trap snapping shut.

“Indeed, Aurélie, you’ve done a superb job,” Damien echoed, and the sound of her words in his mouth made my stomach tighten with fury.

His gaze lingered on me longer than usual. Did he sense my anger? My fear?

“Come on, Damien,” she cooed, looping her arm through his. “Let me show you the room. I want to talk about a few changes.”

He followed. Of course he did.

“Aurélie?” he paused, eyes flicking to mine, concern barely brushing their surface. I wanted to scream. To tell him she was poison. That she was here to rip everything apart. But the words wouldn’t come.

“Come on,” Geneviève pressed sweetly. “Let Aurélie rest. She looks tired.”

And just like that, she led him away from me her laughter like a knife twisting in the dark. I watched their figures climb the front steps of the Alpha mansion, their silhouettes fitting too perfectly together.

A cold sadness spilled through me, thick and suffocating. I placed my hands over my lower stomach, over the tiny heartbeat growing inside me.

If not for myself, then for this child.

I would not let her take everything away.