Chapter 1: The Dead Sister.
Sabrina’s POV.
My husband’s smile died the day my sister did, and sometimes, I think he buried me along with her.
“Good morning, Damien. Happy anniversary!”
Damien sits at the head of the dining table with the pack’s daily newspaper in his hands. I place his breakfast in front of him as I speak, but there’s no response. It’s like he can’t see me.
The only other chair in the room isn’t beside his the way a married couple’s would usually be. It never is.
My chair is at the other end of the table.
I lower myself into my seat slowly and try not to feel hurt, but I fail. Today is our second marriage anniversary and my husband isn’t looking at me.
I’m reaching for a fork when Damien finally lifts his gaze, but he doesn’t direct it at me. He looks past me.
“You’re late,” he says flatly.
Anyone else would think he was really looking at something behind me but I know better.
Damien Prince, Alpha of the Silverstone pack, just doesn’t want to look at me. The sight of me disgusts him.
I glance at the clock on the side of the wall and inhale slowly.
I’m not late, not even by a minute, but correcting Damien would only make things worse so I don’t. I offer an excuse instead.
“I was helping out in the packhouse kitchens. I wanted our breakfast to be special this morning.”
That’s too true to be an excuse but Damien’s jaw only tightens in displeasure, “You don’t have to help. We have staff to do that.”
My hand freezes halfway to my plate of pancakes and eggs. Damien never refers to us as “We”.
I’m not a part of his life or this household, and he wouldn’t have made that kind of mistake unless something else was coming.
His eyes land on me finally, and as always.... they harden, “You made a mistake on the southern patrol reports. Again.”
There it is.
I nod and exhale softly, “I know I did, but I caught it early and corrected it this morning.
It was just one line.”
Damien’s harsh scoff hits me like a slap, “Just one line. Elara would never have made that kind of mistake.”
His dark brown eyes darken as he stares at me, “Y’know sometimes I think you can’t help yourself when it comes to doing that, making mistakes. You’re such a poor substitute for your sister.
She was always meant to be Luna instead of you.”
Damien looks back to the paper but he’s not done. His voice is cold enough it could freeze water over as he sneers, “It’s really too bad you killed her.”
Those words burn straight through my chest.
I lower my eyes so Damien won’t see the pain that flashes across my face but something in me rages against it, tells me to fight it.
My mouth opens and the words I’ve been keeping in for two years come tumbling out, “I didn’t kill Elara.”
Each word is spoken slowly, intentionally.
Damien lowers his paper and pins me with a look that could shatter stone, “Don’t insult my intelligence, Sabrina.”
His anger vibrates through every word he says as he grits out, “We both know you killed your sister.
The entire pack knows you killed Elara.
Lie to me like that again... and I’ll have you thrown into the pack dungeons.”
Damien stands, picking up his plate, and just like that breakfast is over. Like every morning, his scent brushes past me. Crushed pines and fresh mountain winds.
My wolf Thea, whimpers in my mind and pushes against my skin, wanting to spread our scent and let him know we need him.
We need to be with our mate. Our Alpha.
I resist, pushing Thea down before that happens and watch as Damien turns away, dismissing me as he speaks, “The Alpha Council meets in two hours.
Be ready for it and try not to embarrass me this time.”
Like every morning since we’ve been married, the past rushes in uninvited.
Two years ago, everyone in the pack believed my twin sister and Damien were fated by the Moon Goddess. Everyone knew Elara Stone and Damien Prince were perfect for each other.
The annual mating ceremony that year was more lavish than ever.
Bright fairy lights hung from trees and there was food overflowing. Everyone believed that was the night Elara and Damien would finally discover they were mates.No one cared that it could be the night I found my mate too.
No one ever cared for me at all really, and that night Damien did find his mate, but it wasn’t Elara he was meant to find... It was me.
Elara stole my dress, stole my scent, and with a smile, she walked towards Damien the night our wolves should have recognized each other and bound us as mates instead.
The trick worked, and everyone watched Damien walk towards her, eyes glowing, wolf growling.
They were going to have a grand wedding afterwards, the biggest the pack had ever seen.
My sister was going to get married to my mate, and there was nothing I could do about it, but then the unexpected happened. Elara died and her death was blamed on me.
Damien has despised me fiercely ever since.
I look at the mug of steaming coffee on his end of the table that’s barely gone cold while the man I made it for has left already. I want to scream, but I can’t.
I want to shout the truth I’ve been holding in my heart for two years now, but he’ll only hate me even more and accuse me of trying to ruin Elara’s memory.
Damien would never believe that I’m his mate, that I was always meant to be his mate, so I finish my breakfast, drink his coffee and get ready for the meeting.
When I get to the packhouse council chamber, it’s packed.
Every seat is filled because everyone is in attendance today. The pack elders, Betas, warrior wolves… every influential face is here and it’s unusual.
More unusual, is the black candle lit in front of every person seated in a chair.
When I walk past them, their gazes follow me, all hard and judging until I reach my place at Damien’s side. I stand at his right hand, my spine straight and my chin high.
Traditionally a Luna would sit.
I’m Luna, but I haven’t been given a seat at the table yet.
“What are the lit candles for?” I ask softly, speaking to Damien.
Today is our anniversary and even if we don’t talk all year, we should at least try to talk today.
Damien doesn’t look up from the file in his hand. His voice when he responds is cold and distant, “They’re lit in remembrance of Elara.”
A beat of silence follows. A pause where I feel the weight of my dead sister rest heavily on my shoulders before he adds, “Two years ago today, you pushed her off a cliff.”
The council meeting begins as one of the pack elders, a woman named Mara, clears her throat.
She’s a tough-faced woman, sharp with eyes like a hawk, and she has never once hidden her dislike for me.
When she looks at me now, it’s with a burning glare as she begins, “With all due respect, Alpha Damien, our warrior wolves at the borders are concerned.”
Everyone in the room seems to hold still.
“Rogue sightings have become more frequent on both the southern and eastern borders.
Yesterday,” her gaze slides to me, “my clerk noticed an error in the security report for the southern border patrol, and we’re worried. Given the Luna’s... history of violence, many of us feel she’s no longer fit to supervise that region.
We’re requesting a motion to depose her!”
My breath stills in my chest as the words flow through my ears.
“The Luna’s history of violence.” Really? The translation to that is very simple.
They all believe I pushed Elara off that cliff two years ago and today, they want to use that as a reason to get me off the council.
Damien’s fingers tighten subtly on the arm of his chair and I swallow the lump building in my throat.
When I became Luna, I knew nothing.
Elara was the one who was being trained to become Luna.She’s the one who got all the special training sessions, all the teachings on diplomacy and pack law.
I didn’t know anything about being Luna but I learnt. I’ve dedicated time and effort into being the best Luna I could be, but it’s never been enough.
The pack elders still see a one line mistake as a chance to crucify me and get me off the council.
I wait for Damien to defend me, but it never comes.
“The Luna’s past actions of murder aren’t what’s important at this moment.” His gaze rises to me, cold and unreadable as he continues, “Her competence in supervising the southern border, however, will be reviewed.
For now we’ll see to the requests of our warriors concerning the rogues and proceed from there.”
My throat tightens as ripples of conversation flow through the room.
The elders murmur amongst themselves, some approving what has just been said and some of them amused, as they mock me behind sneers and whispers.
What rings most in my head are Damien’s words. My competence is under review.
That’s ironic since I’m the only one who took up the task of monitoring the southern border when no one else would. I’ve been doing it perfectly since then too and they all know it.
I’m his wife and Luna, but he hangs me out to dry over a one line mistake.
When the meeting ends, the elders file out one by one.
Some don’t look at me. Others offer mocking glances my way, but some, like Mara, smile, old faces tight with open hatred.
I remain standing until the room empties and only Damien and I remain.
When he picks up his documents and stands, his height makes him tower over me as he snarls, “Next time… make sure there are no damn mistakes in the reports!
The lives of wolves are on the line here, the lives of everyone in the pack. The least you can do is take it seriously.”
Anger bubbles in me so fast a huff leaves my lips as I snap back, “I know the lives of wolves are on the line!
That’s why I spent all night working on that report and fixed the mistake on it before this morning. Don’t talk to me like I don’t care.”
Damien’s hand shoots out in a split second and clamps around my arm hard enough to bruise as he yanks me against him.
Suddenly we’re standing flush against each other.
My chest heaves and my breath leaves me in a sharp gasp.
I can feel the heat radiating off Damien, feel his scent flooding my nose and his hot breath fanning my face. My traitor of a body sways forward immediately, hot need lighting me up from inside at his touch. I hate myself for it.
Damien’s nostrils flare as he breathes me in and a deep rumble leaves his throat. I see his eyes darken as he reads everything I haven’t been able to say these past few days.
“Don’t ever talk back at me like that,” he murmurs, voice dangerously soft.
He’s staring so fiercely into my eyes and for one dizzying moment, I think he might pull me to him and kiss me.
Damien always has a punishing edge to his kisses, and I need it. I need anything he’ll give me to fill the need that’s pulsing between my legs.
For a second I think he’ll do it.
I imagine Damien’s lips on mine and a squirming feeling curls inside me, but just as suddenly as he grabbed me Damien lets me go. It’s like touching me burns him.
He stalks towards the doors with a clenched fist and I rub my arm, looking at the light imprint his grip has left on me.
I jolt as Damien’s voice drifts into my ears again, “Tonight, we’ll discuss what to do about your body.
You reek of lust.
I can’t have you smelling like that and alerting every male in the pack to what’s going on inside you. For now, try to control yourself.
You’re stinking up the place.”
The door slams shut and I sit in one of the chairs with shame coursing heavily through me. I run my hands through my hair as I try to get my breaths and tears under control.
This relationship we have has always been cruel. It’s one-sided and never in my favor.
On the days Damien goes into heat, my body is his no matter what. He fucks me for days on end, and there’s no refusing him.
When he takes me so brutally, I sometimes wonder if he feels something except hate for me.
When I need him, I just have to hope he wants me too. That hasn’t been much of a problem because despite the hate, he’s always wanted me. He sees being rough and tough with me as punishment, but lately he’s changed his tactics.
Damien starves me of sex like it’s a crime to be with me and he won’t even think of committing it.
This all started when our anniversary began to draw near and after two years, I’m considering doing something I’ve never thought of doing before.
I want to leave this loveless marriage.
