FROM A COMMON LUNA TO THE WEREWOLF QUEEN

Lorian came back after a few days, but instead of returning to the mansion, he went straight to the pack doctor’s cottage when he found out I was there.

The sight of him entering the room caught me off guard, his face pale with worry as he rushed to my side.

“Oh, hun,” he said, taking my hands in his. His grip was firm, almost desperate. “Why are you in bed? What happened? You can’t get sick—our baby could be affected.”

I yanked my hands away and sat up slowly, keeping my gaze fixed on the blanket draped over my lap. My chest tightened, a bitter mix of anger and sorrow welling up inside me. “It’s nothing,” I said, my voice calm but distant. “Just a little exhausted from handling too many duties lately.”

The words felt like acid on my tongue. Funny how he didn’t even know the real reason I was here—that his betrayal had shattered me, and that I’d lost our baby because of it. Yet here he was, pretending to care, oblivious to the storm raging inside me.

An uncomfortable silence settled between us, thick and suffocating.

Through our mate bond, I could sense hints of his guilt, faint and fleeting, as if he was deliberately blocking me out. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I struggled to suppress the emotions threatening to spill over.

Finally, he sat beside me and reached for my hand again. This time, he held on tightly, his touch gentle but insistent. “I know I haven’t been around enough,” he said, his voice low, almost pleaded. “But I promise, I’ll make it up to you. I’ll be the mate you deserve.” He kissed my hand softly, his lips lingering as if to emphasize his sincerity. “When you and the baby are fully recovered, I want us to celebrate your birthday together. What do you think?”

I lifted my gaze to meet his, studying the hopeful expression on his face. His excitement felt misplaced, a stark contrast to the emptiness I carried inside. Still, I forced a small smile and nodded. “That sounds lovely. I’d like that.”

“Cool!” His grin widened, relief washing over him like a wave. It was as if he thought he’d managed to fix everything with just a few words.

---

On my birthday, Lorian took me to a fancy restaurant in the city owned by one of our pack members. He was unusually talkative, recounting stories of the packs he claimed to have visited recently. His voice was animated, almost too eager, as though he was trying to distract me from my own thoughts.

But I knew better. His stories were lies—I’d called those packs myself, and they confirmed he hadn’t been there in a long time.

Such a big, fat liar.

“…and you know what?” he continued, his eyes sparkling with false enthusiasm. “Alpha Rick said he wants us to visit when our pup—”

His phone buzzed, cutting him off mid-sentence. He glanced at the screen, a flicker of unease crossing his face. “Sorry, I have to take this,” he said, standing up quickly and heading toward the restroom without another word.

I watched him leave, my chest tightening. My hands curled around the fork on my plate as I waited, counting the minutes. When he finally returned, his face was pale, his movements tense.

“Alpha Rick... he’s been attacked,” Lorian said quietly, placing a cold hand on my shoulder. “He’s asking for our help, Isolde. I have to go assist him.”

I took a deep breath and stabbed my fork into the slice of cake in front of me. “Go,” I said simply, placing a piece in my mouth.

His eyes widened, clearly surprised by my nonchalant tone. “Hun, please don’t feel bad about me leaving you alone.”

I forced a smile and nodded. “I understand, Lorian. They’re our friends, and we can’t turn our backs on them in their time of need.”

He exhaled a sigh of relief, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “Thank you, hun. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you with an even bigger celebration when we return.”

I watched him walk away, my chest heavy with unshed tears. As the door closed behind him, I whispered under my breath, “Keep fooling around, Lorian. One day, you’ll regret it, and even your apologies won’t be enough.”

---

That night, Lorian came back unexpectedly, carrying a pile of gifts. His shirt was pristine, not a single stain or tear to suggest he’d been near a battlefield. Suspicion clawed at me as I waited for him to fall asleep before inspecting the packages.

My heart sank when I read the notes attached to the gifts. Happy birthday, Aveline.

The pain in my chest was sharp, a fresh wound added to the countless others. My first instinct was to destroy the gifts, but instead, I kept them, adding them to the collection of evidence I’d been gathering.

---

The next evening, I followed Lorian to a bar frequented by shifters. My heart pounded as I stepped inside, the dim lighting casting shadows over the crowd. It didn’t take long to find him. He was in a loveseat with a woman draped over him—blonde, curvy, and laughing at something he said.

“Aveline.”

The name felt like a dagger to my chest. My fists clenched as I watched them, bile rising in my throat. His hands roamed her body, and they kissed with a passion that made me sick.

Memories of the first time they’d announced their bond came flooding back, the pain as raw and fresh as if it had just happened. My vision blurred with tears, but I refused to look away.

The crowd around them began to cheer and chant. “Mark her! Mark her!”

Lorian froze mid-laugh, his head snapping toward me.