After She Left, Both Men Regretted It

The one who appeared was dressed in a moon-white ceremonial mantle, woven with silver threads that shimmered like frost. His features were carved with the noble sharpness of their bloodline, his eyes soft as drifting snow when they landed upon Narissa.

It was her elder brother—Evan Sterling, heir of the Moon-Claw Alpha line.

Behind him stood a group of pack youths, among them Liora, clad in a flowing white gown embroidered with star-petals. Her delicate posture and sweet, gentle expression made it easy to believe she was soft-hearted and pure.

But Narissa’s gaze drifted further—

to Drake, the male who had once vowed to be hers, now standing protectively beside Liora.

He leaned toward Liora, whispering something that made her lips curve in shy sweetness.

Narissa’s mind turned blank. Her breath caught in her throat.

Before she could speak, Bella—the she-wolf she had just slapped—rushed dramatically to Liora’s side, tears brimming.

“Liora, your sister is vicious!” Bella wailed.

“I merely asked why she wore no clan jewels to the Moon Feast, and she struck me! And she… she called me the daughter of a mistress. Does my mother’s blood make me deserving of violence?”

Narissa inhaled sharply.

She opened her mouth—

But Liora spoke first, eyes turning red with wounded innocence.

“Narissa… even if Bella spoke wrongly, you cannot hit people.”

Bella spoke wrongly?

Narissa’s nails dug into her palm.

She stepped forward and said coldly,

“If she had not insulted my mother, I would not have touched her.”

At Narissa’s words, Drake’s brows drew together, irritation flickering across his handsome features.

“Narissa,” he said, voice low with disapproval,

“Bella is Liora’s companion—and the daughter of the Thorne Elders. Even if she was at fault, you should not strike her before the entire clan.”

The hall was full of watching eyes—curious, condemning, whispering.

Narissa’s chest tightened as loneliness washed over her.

Just as she was about to respond, a shadow stepped before her.

Evan.

His expression was warm, smile gentle—yet it felt like a blade wrapped in silk.

He bowed his head slightly toward Bella.

“Narissa has been pampered since she was small. I apologize on her behalf.”

Narissa froze, disbelief sweeping through her.

Then anger.

“Evan,” she hissed, “I did nothing wrong. She spoke filth.”

Evan’s smile didn’t fade—but his eyes turned cold as winter stone.

Narissa’s breath hitched. She recognized that look.

Her brother was displeased.

But why?

He turned toward her, voice mild—yet every word cut like a dull blade.

“Narissa… it’s all the same.”

All the same.

Hurt or not hurt, right or wrong—it made no difference to him anymore?

Bella’s cheeks flushed, emboldened by Evan’s stance.

“For your sake, I’ll let this foul-mouthed woman go,” she said sweetly.

Then Liora stepped forward, her voice trembling like a helpless doe.

“I know you’ve always disliked me,” she whispered,

“and you despise my mother for being a mistress… but Narissa, we never chose how we were born.”

Tears filled her eyes.

“If I could choose, I would wish to be Father’s legitimate daughter, with a brother who loves me too.”

She choked, covering her face, and fled the hall in tears.

Drake instinctively moved to follow, but paused—

his dark gaze settling on Narissa instead.

Disappointment. Annoyance. Blame.

“Narissa,” he said sharply,

“Liora was overjoyed that you were allowed to leave confinement today. Yet you greet her like this. I’ve indulged you too much… that’s why you’ve become like this.”

Without waiting for her response, he turned and strode out after Liora, cloak billowing behind him.

A wave of whispers swept through the hall like rustling leaves.

Narissa felt her fury surge hot in her throat.

Liora’s mother was the one who had seduced her father—

yet Liora dared to play the victim, as if Narissa were the intruder in her own family.

She turned to Evan, her voice trembling.

“Evan… do you also believe I’m at fault?”

Evan sighed softly, rubbing the bridge of his nose, fatigue clouding his expression.

When he looked at her, it was with a familiar softness that hurt more than cruelty.

“Narissa,” he said gently,

“we were choosing a moon-gift for you earlier. That’s why we didn’t greet you sooner.”

The tone…

The dismissal…

It felt exactly like how he used to deal with she-wolves who tried to court him—

soft rejection, polite distance.

But now that same tone was directed

at her.

Narissa’s breath hitched.

Her brother had not always been like this.

Once, he had adored her.

When they were young, his favorite wolf carved toys were off-limits to everyone—yet if she so much as looked at one, he would place it in her hands.

When he went to the Northern Academy, he returned every month just to bring her small gifts and spend time with her.

And after the accident—

when their mother threw herself over Narissa to shield her—

Evan became almost obsessively protective.

He hired guards, trained personally with her, refused to leave her side for long.

But everything changed the day Liora and her mother walked into their den.

And now…

He stood before her, looking at her not with love—

but with disappointment.

Distance.

And a coldness that chilled her to her bones.