His Regret, My Throne

Right before our Mating Ceremony, my mate, Alpha Damien, told me he had to temporarily mark an Omega from our pack, Seraphina.

He claimed she had the Moon Sickness and would die if he didn't mark her.

I fought him on it, but the next day, he moved Seraphina right into the penthouse of the Pack House.

The suite meant for the future Luna.

My suite.

To calm me, he even got on his knees, his eyes red as he promised, "Once she's safe, I'll remove the mark. You'll still be my only Luna."

But then, Seraphina found me, a medical report in her hand.

Six weeks pregnant.

They'd already held their marking ceremony long before Damien ever came to me.

My heart shattered into ash.

My pen dug into the calendar, carving a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our Mating Ceremony.

Then, I opened my laptop and replied to the email from the European Laurel Healers' Guild.

"I accept your invitation. I leave on the day of the Mating Ceremony."

Right before our Mating Ceremony, my mate, Damien, said he needed to mark another she-wolf, Omega Seraphina—the one who’d supposedly saved his life.

"I have to give Seraphina a temporary mark. She's dying, Isla. The Moon Sickness is eating her alive."

Damien’s gaze was heavy on me.

I stopped mixing the moon petal elixir in my hands.

It was for our Mating Ceremony, said to make the mate bond even stronger.

And now, he wanted me to accept him marking another woman.

My fingertips started to tremble.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"It's the only way to save her." Damien turned away, unable to meet my eyes.

Those deep blue eyes I once loved were now a storm of conflict and chilling resolve.

"I owe her my life."

"I don't care what you owe her!" My voice went sharp. "A mark is sacred, Damien! It's supposed to be for us—"

"One month," he cut me off, his eyes bloodshot, a flicker of confusion in them as if he genuinely couldn't understand my resistance.

"I promise, I'll remove the mark right after the ceremony. She'll live, and you'll still be my only Luna."

I stared at him, my jaw tight. "I don't agree. Unless you want to cut our mate bond."

Damien's eyes finally turned to ice. "This isn't a request, Isla. A life is at stake. Don't make me force this."

He promised, "It’s just a temporary mark. It won’t affect our bond. In a month, everything will be back to normal."

Then he stormed out, slamming the door.

His Alpha scent, thick with anger, clung to the air long after he was gone.

The next day, I was standing at the entrance to the Pack Headquarters when a long, black sedan pulled up.

My whole body went numb.

Damien got out of the passenger seat and gently helped a delicate, fragile figure out of the car.

Seraphina.

She looked so pale, like a strong gust of wind could knock her over.

Damien's arm was wrapped around her waist, a protective gesture that sent a wave of nausea through me.

"Watch the steps," he said, his voice so gentle it made me want to scream.

It was a tone he had never once used with me.

I watched them walk into the building and get on the elevator.

Headed straight for the top floor.

For the luxury suite reserved only for the future Luna.

My suite.

Three hours later, Damien came back to our apartment.

I was waiting for him on the sofa, a cup of cold tea clutched in my hand.

"Is she settled in?" My voice was so calm it scared me.

Damien took off his jacket. "The pack healer said she needs a quiet environment."

"So you put her on the top floor."

"It has the best facilities," he said, avoiding my eyes. "It's just temporary."

I stood up and slowly walked toward him.

"Damien, where were you last night?"

He froze for a second. "Dealing with a border dispute. I told you."

"All night?"

"It was more complicated than I expected."

I stepped closer, close enough to smell the scent of another she-wolf on him.

The commingled scent was a poisoned needle, stabbing straight through our mate bond.

A sharp, tearing pain ripped through my soul, and I almost buckled.

It wasn't just Seraphina’s scent. It was deeper, more intimate.

The kind of deeply blended scent that only comes from a true Mating mark.

He had lied.

He wasn't dealing with a border dispute last night.

He was performing their marking ceremony.

And now, he was still trying to get my permission for something that was already done.

"Do you even still need my permission?" I took a step back, fighting the tears welling in my eyes.

"You have to understand, Isla. A life is at stake." Damien moved toward me, trying to take my hand.

"You're my fated mate," he insisted, as if that explained everything. "You should be on my side."

I yanked my hand away. "I need more time."

"There is no time. She won't last much longer."

Just then, the elevator to the penthouse opened.

Seraphina stepped out, draped in a white silk robe I'd never seen before.

Her cheeks were flushed with a sickly pink, but her eyes were bright.

She walked straight to Damien and leaned against his chest.

"Thank you, Damien," she said, her voice weak but sweet, her eyes fixed directly on me.

"I feel so much better already."