My fingers tighten around the phone 33

Emma’s POV
The whispers caught my attention as I left Ethan’s office, my Louboutins clicking against the polished floor with each
angry step. A group of young she-wolves huddled near the water cooler, their excited voices carrying clearly to my
enhanced hearing. I slowed my pace, letting their gossip wash over me like acid rain.
“Did you see the marks on Alpha Heir Ethan’s neck this morning?”
“They definitely weren’t there at the ball…”
“I heard he left right after that scene with the Silver Moon princess…”
“And did you notice how he carried her out? So protective…”
My fingers tightened on my designer purse until the leather creaked in protest, the sound barely audible over the
thundering of my heart. The marks. I’d noticed them earlier, tried to ignore them, tried to convince myself they were
something – anything – else. But the evidence was impossible to deny.
“Maybe it was Instructor Reynolds,” one of the younger wolves suggested, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
“I mean, why else would a powerless she-wolf be allowed to teach here? There must be something between them…”
“And did you see how he looks at her during training sessions?” another added, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Like he’s trying to solve a puzzle…”
The suggestion made my wolf howl with rage and fear, the sound echoing through my mind like a wounded animal.
I spun on my heel, intending to return to Ethan’s office and demand answers, only to find it empty. His scent lingered in
the air – pine needles and mountain air, pure alpha power that made my wolf whine with wanting.
My hand flew to the silver wolf fang pendant around my neck – the symbol of my supposed connection to Ethan, the
physical proof of a night that had never actually happened. The metal felt cold against my skin, a constant reminder of
the lies I’d built my life around.
Memories of recent weeks flashed through my mind like a horrific slideshow: Ethan’s distraction whenever Aria was near,
the way his eyes followed her movements during training, how his wolf seemed to react to her presence even without her
being able to shift. Each observation felt like another nail in the coffin of my carefully constructed future.
I found myself in the parking lot without consciously deciding to leave, yanking off my perfectly curated accessories with
trembling hands. The diamonds Ethan had given me – guilt gifts, I realized now – felt like they were burning my skin. He
gave me everything I wanted in these years but never touched me as a real lover.
The drive to Bella’s favorite wine bar passed in a blur of anxiety and growing rage. Bella was already there. The sight of
her composed confidence made me want to scream. She’d never understood what it was like to want something so
desperately you’d burn the world down to get it. Her position in Silver Moon was secure, even if it wasn’t quite what she’d
hoped for.
“Your text sounded urgent,” she said by way of greeting, studying me over the rim of her wine glass.
I slid into the booth across from her, my trembling hands reaching for the wine bottle. The expensive cabernet sloshed
messily into my glass, betraying my agitation.
“I think…” My voice caught as the words tried to strangle me. “I think Ethan slept with her that night. After the ball.”
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Bella’s perfectly shaped eyebrow arched with interest. “Interesting theory. And what makes you so sure?”
“The marks on his neck, the way he’s been acting…” I took a shaky breath. “And she was gone for hours. Tell me what you
know.”
“My sources confirm she left her precious little boy with Marcus,” Bella’s lips curved into a cruel smile. “Didn’t pick him up
until very late.”
The wine turned to acid in my stomach. “David fed me some bullshit about them handling training facility business.” I let
out a bitter laugh. “As if I’m stupid enough to believe that. They were together, weren’t they? All night?”
Understanding dawned in Bella’s eyes, followed quickly by calculation. “Well, well. Our little fallen princess is getting
ambitious.” She took another sip of wine, her expression thoughtful.
“Show me her son’s photo again,” I demanded, my voice barely above a whisper. Even saying the boy’s name felt like
swallowing glass.
Bella pulled up a recent picture on her phone, and my heart nearly stopped. Those forest-green eyes, that particular tilt of
the jaw – looking at Lucas was like seeing a younger version of Ethan. The timing haunted me – that night at Mountain
View Resort, nine months before Lucas’s birth… The pieces were falling into place with terrifying clarity.
“He looks just like him, doesn’t he?” I whispered, unable to tear my eyes from the photo. “Like Ethan.”
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“Yes…” Bella’s voice held a sort of cruel. “They are alike…”
My hands trembled as I drained my wine glass. “If anyone else sees this resemblance… if Ethan realizes…” I couldn’t finish
the thought. The very idea of them discovering the truth made me physically ill.
All these years, Ethan had showered me with expensive gifts – jewelry, cars, designer clothes – but he’d never looked at
me the way he looked at Aria. Never touched me, never shared my bed. The closest we’d ever come to intimacy was
when he’d fastened that damned pendant around my neck.
“Maybe…” The wine burned in my throat as a desperate plan took root in my mind. My wolf howled in agreement, urging me toward any possibility of claiming our mate. “Maybe if I could give him a child of our own. A pure-blooded heir.” My
voice grew stronger with each word, clinging to this new hope like a lifeline. “Then he’d have to choose me, wouldn’t he?
An alpha’s duty to his bloodline would override everything else.”
Images flashed through my mind – Ethan turning away from my embraces, making excuses to avoid private dinners, the
way his wolf seemed to recoil from my presence. Six years of rejection wrapped in polite smiles and expensive gifts.
My hands trembled as I poured another glass of wine, spilling drops of red that looked like blood on the white tablecloth.
“I can’t lose him, Bella.” My voice cracked with raw desperation. “You don’t understand. I’ve spent six years building this
life, crafting this perfect image.” My nails dug deeper into my palms, the sharp pain anchoring me to reality. “All those
society events, the carefully chosen outfits, playing the perfect future Luna… I can’t let her waltz back in and take
everything I’ve worked for.”
Tears threatened to spill, but I blinked them back furiously. I wouldn’t cry. Not here. Not over this. “I don’t care what it
takes,” I whispered, and my wolf snarled in agreement.
“I won’t let Aria win. Not again…”