The former Luna's sharp eyes swept over the gathered crowd, then locked directly onto me.
"And who might this be?" she asked with a polite but pointed smile. "I wasn't informed of any new arrival."
I straightened up, schooling my expression into something calm, even as my heartbeat quickened.
"I'm Eva Sinclair," I said slowly, giving a respectful nod before bowing lightly. "It's an honor to meet you, former Luna."
She examined me for a second longer—too long—before her eyes went back to Selene. It doesn't look like she cherishes my existence.
Before the air could grow heavier, Damien stepped forward, placing himself subtly between us.
"Nothing is wrong," he said, voice firm. "Eva is a guest of the pack. And about Selene, she's being treated well."
Selene's head snapped up from her tear-streaked performance.
"Why are you lying to your parents, Damien?" she gasped. "You know what's been happening here! You saw it!"
Damien's jaw flexed, and for a second, it looked like he might actually say something—something real.
But then he looked at Selene. At her trembling lips. Her wide, broken eyes. And he caved.
Slowly, he pulled her into his arms.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, holding her close in front of everyone. "If you felt wronged, I will make it up to you."
My breath caught in my throat.
He didn't even look at me.
She buried her face into his chest—smirking through her tears. She wasn't crying anymore. She was winning.
Slowly, everyone descended towards the dining hall and I was left alone there. She is doing this on purpose.
–––⸻✧⸻–––
I wasn't supposed to be here.
I could hear the laughter, the clinking of glasses, the way heels clicked and voices cooed. Everyone was inside.
Everyone but me—at least, that's what Selene intended.
Damien's words from earlier echoed in my head: "Come if you want."
He didn't owe me anything, yet somehow, that invitation felt like more than a kindness.
So I stood at the edge of their opulence, wearing a dress that wasn't custom-made or draped in gold. It was simple—flowy, black silk hugging my frame, falling off my shoulder in soft elegance.
When I stepped into the ballroom, the world didn't exactly stop… but it stuttered.
Eyes turned. Murmurs followed. Selene's face turned from delight to ice in a heartbeat, her hand tightening around Xavier's arm. He whispered something to her, but she didn't hear. She was too focused on me.
Good.
I didn't need to fight her tonight. I only needed to exist in the same room and still rise.
I drifted to the side, away from the dancers. My fingers brushed against the table beside me, trying not to fidget, trying not to look like I was waiting for something… or someone.
Then, the music changed.
Slower now. Deeper. A string quartet opened into something so hauntingly graceful, it silenced half the chatter.
A voice echoed from the stage—one of the elders, standing beside Damien's parents.
> "As is tradition, the Alpha and his Luna shall take the ceremonial dance."
My stomach sank. Why?
Selene stepped forward with all the grace of someone who thought the crown was already on her head.
Damien.
He stepped forward from the shadows beside his father. The same Alpha who ruled the pack for decades. His mother beamed proudly as she looked at Selene—her future Luna, as far as she believed.
Damien said nothing.
But he offered his hand to Selene. She accepted with a glowing smile. And they danced.
But his eyes… weren't on her.
They were on me.
Every. Single. Second.
She twirled, dipped, clung to him with a grace that screamed I own this—but none of it mattered. He wasn't looking at her. His hands moved with practiced formality, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.
No.
With someone else entirely.
Me.
I stood still, a statue among dancers, but when our eyes met across the ballroom floor, something cracked inside me.
He wasn't even hiding it. And Selene… noticed.
Her movements stiffened mid-spin. Her smile twitched. She pulled herself closer to him—but it only made the distance in his gaze more obvious.
Unknowingly, I looked away and the excused myself, running into the corner of the hall where he couldn't see me.
I did not want to see them like that anymore.
–––⸻✧⸻–––
The night stretched out around me, cold but calming. A kind of stillness that made everything louder inside my head.
I gripped the railing tighter.
I didn't want to think about how her hands had been on him, how everyone around had smiled like it was a fairytale.
Except him.
He hadn't smiled once.
The door creaked open behind me. I
"You okay out here alone?"
His voice was quiet—low and rough in a way that made my stomach tighten.
"I'm used to being alone," I said, not looking at him. "But thanks for the check-in."
He didn't respond right away. Just stood beside me, silent. I could feel his gaze on me.
And I hated that I felt it.
He leaned a little closer, his eyes dragging over my face like he was trying to read something I wasn't offering. I kept my expression blank.
His hand lifted—slow, steady—and two fingers curled gently under my chin. He tilted my face toward him, making me meet his eyes.
His gaze locked with mine, dark and unreadable, and for a moment, neither of us breathed.
"You don't look fine," he said, eyes trailing over me like a confession.
I swallowed.
"Maybe I'm just good at pretending."
His thumb brushed the edge of my jaw—barely there, just enough to make my heart thump in my ears.
He leaned closer, and I felt the heat of his breath on my lips, the weight of the moment pressing hard between us.
"S-Say something," I whispered.
"I don't know what I'd say that wouldn't ruin this," he muttered.
"Ruin what?"
His grip on my chin stayed gentle, but something flickered in his eyes.
"You," he said, his voice low, raw. "Ruin you. Whatever this is."
My lips parted, but no words came out. His eyes searched mine like he hated what he was about to say but couldn't stop it anymore.
"Every time I see you… I lose focus," he confessed. "I feel it under my skin. This—this fucking madness."
His hand slipped from my chin to my jaw, and his thumb dragged along my cheekbone.
"My wolf," he growled under his breath, "reacts to you like it's never reacted to anyone else. Not even her."
Her: Selene.
My stomach twisted—but I couldn't look away. Couldn't move.
"He pulls toward you," Damien went on. "Always. Like he knows something I'm not ready to admit."
"Then why do you fight it?" I whispered.
His jaw clenched. His fingers twitched against my skin.
"Because I hate it," he said. "I hate the way my body wants you when I'm supposed to be with—" He stopped, shaking his head. "When I'm supposed to be in control."
I let out a shaky breath. My heart slammed so hard in my chest it felt painful.
"So you try to control it… by staying with her?" I asked, quieter this time. "By letting her cling to you like she owns you?"
"You think I let her?" he whispered.
"You don't stop her."
A beat passed. Then another.
He stepped even closer. Now our bodies were nearly touching. My back pressed against the cold balcony rail. His eyes dropped to my lips, lingered, and then snapped back to mine.
> "You drive me insane," he breathed. "And I still don't know if that's a curse or a fucking blessing."
I swallowed hard. My voice came out softer than I expected.
"Then stop pretending like you don't want to find out."
"Well," a voice drawled behind us, "don't let me ruin the dramatic build-up."
I stiffened instantly. Damien stepped back, slow and reluctant, his expression hardening as he turned.
Xavier stood by the open doors to the balcony, arms crossed, posture lazy—but his eyes were anything but. He looked at us like we were something distasteful on the bottom of his shoe.
"Didn't realize this balcony was booked for private sessions," he added, voice dry. "I can come back later."
Damien's jaw ticked.
"What do you want?"
Xavier shrugged.
"Father wants you downstairs. Apparently, Selene's crying and mother is two seconds away from declaring a full-blown war on whoever's hurting her precious daughter's feelings."
I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. What a dramatic bitch.
Xavier noticed. Of course he did. His lip curled, just slightly before he said.
"Maybe keep the emotional breakdowns for private balconies next time."
"Get lost, Xavier," Damien snapped, but his voice lacked bite.
I hated how easily he could pretend none of it happened.
He gave me one last look and then he turned and walked past Xavier without another word.
Xavier stepped closer, his gaze traveling up and down before he rolled his eyes.
"Careful," he said with that same twisted smirk. "He's good at making you feel like you're the only one in the world... right before he remembers he belongs to someone else."