Celeste wasn’t just mocking me. She was wearing the moonstone collar—the Alpha’s heirloom, meant for his true mate. Worse, they had been spotted in a private den beneath the ridge, laughing together loudly enough for the patrols to hear.
Rage took over my disbelief. I grabbed the bouquet and marched to their den, the roses burning my nostrils. My wolf, Maia, urged me to confront them.
"Calm down," I told her. But I couldn’t calm down. Not after this.
When I arrived, they were having dinner. Candles lit up an expensive feast as Celeste, wearing an emerald gown, sipped from a crystal goblet. The moonstone collar glowed at her neck, mocking me.
Lukas leaned back in his chair, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. He didn’t even flinch when I barged in.
"Ayla," he said with a drawl, his voice dripping with anger "What are you doing here?"
I threw the bouquet at their table, knocking over their wine. It spilled across the cloth, red as blood.
"Discussing pack strategies, are we?" I hissed, my voice shaking. "Or is this the ‘strategy’ that involves claiming another she-wolf as your mate?"
Celeste laughed, her voice sharp and cruel.