The Mate They Regretted

Before Aveline could form a response, Evander was already gone.

No hesitation.

No lingering glance.

Just the heavy door shutting behind him—solid, final—like whatever she had become in that moment no longer required his attention.

She didn’t need instinct to tell her where he went.

In their world, there were only ever two summons that could pull a man like Evander away without a second thought.

The Moon Court’s affairs of power.

And Vespera’s voice.

**

The silence had barely settled when the second man arrived.

Soren.

The door opened with familiarity that did not belong to strangers.

He stepped in as if he had always had the right to enter her space, as if nothing between them had ever fractured.

Before she could move back, he pulled her into his arms.

Familiar.

Possessive.

Wrong.

His voice dropped low near her ear, warm in the way venom sometimes disguised itself.

“Aveline… this is good news. You carry a child.”

The scent of him closed in—iron, herbs, and the cold undertone of a man who had long stopped separating love from control.

It made her stomach turn.

She didn’t hesitate.

She pushed him away.

Hard.

The contact broke clean.

Her eyes lifted—no softness left in them now. Only something stripped raw.

A child born under deception was not blessing.

It was consequence.

A chain disguised as life.

Her hands moved quickly, sharply.

I will not keep it.

The moment the words formed, Soren’s expression changed.

Not shock.

Recognition.

Then calculation—swift, practiced, buried beneath a gentle smile.

“You would end it?” he asked softly. “No. That cannot be.”

His tone lowered.

“That is my blood.”

Aveline’s fingers trembled—not in fear, but in fury she no longer bothered to hide.

The child is within my body. You do not decide anything.

For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes.

Something human.

It died quickly.

He exhaled and softened again, slipping back into the voice he always used when he wanted obedience instead of resistance.

“Aveline,” he murmured, stepping closer, “why are you like this lately? This is our child.”

Our.

A word that had never been real.

He reached for her again as if closeness could overwrite truth.

“We are to be wed within days,” he continued. “Is this not favorable? I will provide for you. The child—boy or girl, it matters not. I will raise it. I will take care of you both.”

From now on.

Always from now on.

As if the past could be buried beneath promises spoken too easily to mean anything.

Aveline almost laughed.

But there was nothing left in her to laugh with.

What future?

There had never been one.

Only carefully layered deception held together by names she was never meant to question.

He drew her into his arms again, attempting to press her back into place, like something that had briefly broken and needed to be fixed by force.

“Three days remain until the wedding,” he murmured against her hair. “Do not think so much. Just be my bride.”

Then, softer—almost rehearsed:

“I was wrong before. Forgive me.”

That was when she moved.

She broke free.

Not gently.

Not carefully.

Final.

Distance snapped back into existence between them like iron gates slamming shut.

Her gaze did not waver.

And for the first time, Soren saw it.

Something had gone still inside her.

Not grief.

Not confusion.

Something far more dangerous in a world ruled by wolves.

Clarity.

A messenger howl echoed faintly outside the estate walls.

Soren’s attention shifted instantly.

A distant voice from the corridor carried news through pack channels.

Vespera.

The name alone altered him.

The mask returned immediately.

“…I understand,” he said, already turning. “I will handle it.”

He ended the exchange and faced Aveline again as if nothing had changed.

“Vespera’s matter requires attention,” he said flatly. “You must finish the song within three days.”

The shift was almost insulting in its ease.

From vows of marriage to orders for another woman in a single breath.

Aveline looked at him then—really looked.

And something in her expression settled.

So this was it.

Warmth when he wanted her compliant.

Orders when Vespera called.

And he still believed she did not see the pattern.

Soren must have noticed her silence, because he softened again—quickly, instinctively.

“I spoke too sharply,” he added. “Do not take it to heart. This project is important for her.”

Important for her.

Never for Aveline.

Always for Vespera.

She gave a small nod.

Not agreement.

Not acceptance.

Something far more deliberate.

Soren relaxed.

“That is my Aveline,” he said, satisfied. “Good girl. I will return later.”

He left.

The door closed.

And Aveline did not move.

Because she already knew.

He was not going to any council meeting.

He was going to Vespera.

**

The night deepened.

A messenger bird arrived at the window.

Her mother’s seal.

Aveline.

How are preparations for the union? I look forward to seeing you in your wedding dress beneath the moonlight.

Her fingers paused.

Memory followed immediately.

White gowns.

Mirrors.

Laughter that did not belong to her.

She replied carefully.

I am well, Mother. Do not worry.

Another message followed almost at once.

Take care of yourself. Do not let Evander tire you too much. Leave the preparations to the house attendants if needed.

Her throat tightened.

Then—

Your father would have been proud.

That name.

That absence.

Aveline went still.

Her father.

The man who never returned from the old forest road.

The accident they called it.

The silence they buried it under.

Evander’s world.

Soren’s deals.

Vespera’s inheritance.

Everything built on something that had once been human.

Her grip on the parchment tightened until it creased.

If not for them, he would still be alive.

If not for them, her mother would not be broken beneath healer’s care.

A debt that could never be repaid.

But even as rage rose—

her hand drifted once, instinctively, to her abdomen.

Something alive.

Something that had done nothing wrong.

The cruelest contradiction of all.

She sat there through the night without moving, caught between vengeance and something she refused to name.

**

She did not know when sleep took her.

But when it did, it was not rest.

It was invasion.

The door slammed open.

Violent.

Unannounced.

The wards on the chamber trembled.

Aveline sat up instantly.

Vespera stood at the threshold.

Like she had always belonged there.

Like the room itself answered to her presence.

“I heard,” Vespera said lightly, smiling, “that you carry a child.”

She stepped inside.

Unhurried.

Certain.

Then struck.

Her fist drove into Aveline’s abdomen without warning.

Pain detonated through her body.

Aveline collapsed sideways, breath breaking, hands instinctively curling inward as something inside her tightened violently.

Vespera watched her fall like it was art.

Then she laughed.

Soft.

Satisfied.

“So it has come to this,” she said, circling slowly. “You truly believed you would become Luna of the Hart pack?”

She crouched slightly.

Voice lowering.

“Let me correct your understanding.”

A pause.

“The man you cling to… was never yours.”

Aveline’s breath shuddered.

Vespera’s smile widened.

“Soren was the one who lay with you.”

A beat.

“And Evander?”

Her eyes gleamed.

“He belongs to me.”

Her voice softened into poison.

“They both do.”

Then, closer:

“You were never chosen. Not even as a substitute. Just something used when convenient.”

Aveline’s vision blurred with pain.

Vespera’s final words cut deeper than the strike.

“If you keep this child… then finish the song. Or I will make sure your line ends with your father.”

Something inside Aveline snapped.

Not into collapse.

Into edge.

Vespera only smiled wider.

“Try me.”

A second later—

The door opened again.

Soren stepped in.

“Vespera?” His brows furrowed. “Why are you here?”

Vespera’s expression changed instantly.

Soft again.

Fragile.

“I was only speaking with her,” she said sweetly.

Then, under her breath—only for Aveline:

Remember.

Soren’s attention shifted.

Then—

He saw it.

Blood.

Aveline’s body went rigid.

Warmth spreading too fast.

Too wrong.

The sheets beneath her darkened.

Soren’s expression broke.

“Aveline!”

He moved forward immediately—

But Vespera suddenly clutched her own abdomen.

“Agh… Evander… it hurts…”

Everything changed in him instantly.

Like a command had been issued.

He turned.

“Vespera!”

He lifted her without hesitation.

And left.

No second look.

No pause.

Only footsteps fading down the corridor.

Aveline lay curled on the bed, breath shallow, vision fracturing at the edges.

Her lips moved.

“…save… the child…”

But the room was already empty.

Only silence answered.

Only then did Soren stop outside the door.

Slowly.

Like something in him had finally caught up.

He turned back.

His voice came out broken.

“…Aveline?”

A pause.

Then—

Shock sharpened into disbelief.

“Your voice…”