{IRIS}
As a maid in the packhouse, I was granted privileges that allowed to move freely—a necessity for soone responsible for cleaning, errands, and the endless mundane tasks no one else wanted.
Today, however, my access would serve a far more personal purpose.
I moved through the winding corridors with a bundle of freshly folded laundry cradled in my arms, my fingers trembling against the fabric.
The rhythmic hum of activity filled the hallways—pack mbers preparing for the Ember Howl Kin’s arrival. I kept my head low, my steps light and careful. Every stride brought closer to his room, where the future Alpha resided.
My heart pounded harder with every step. The familiar ache of the mate bond flared, an invisible thread pulling toward him even as my mind scread at to turn back.
Lorcan had avoided for weeks—months—and every mont of his absence had carved deeper wounds into my soul.
When I reached his door, I hesitated, my breath uneven. The air felt heavier here, as if his presence on the other side amplified the bond that tethered us. My pulse thundered in my ears, my stomach twisting with unease.
The bundle of laundry in my arms suddenly felt impossibly heavy, though it was nothing compared to the weight of the question that had plagued : Why won’t you acknowledge ?
My trembling hand reached for the doorknob, but just as my fingers brushed the cool tal, a sound from within stopped cold.
A groan—low and unmistakable.
I stiffened, my wolf-less senses dulled but not entirely useless. My blood turned to ice as I strained to listen, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach. Another sound followed, softer this ti—a feminine moan.
No.
My mind rebelled, clinging to fragile threads of denial. Perhaps I had misheard. Perhaps I was mistaken. But deep down, in the part of my soul that was tied to his, I already knew.
Still, I needed to see for myself.
Moving as though in a trance, I pushed the door open a fraction, the creak of the hinges sounding deafening in the silence. I peered inside, my breath caught in my throat, my heart begging the Moon Goddess to spare the truth.
But there he was.
Lorcan Bloodhowl, the man destined by fate to be my mate, the one who should have been my protector and partner, was tangled in the sheets with another woman.
The world tilted, and for a mont, I thought I might collapse. My vision swam as I took in the scene—Lorcan’s powerful fra hovering over Patricia’s lithe body, his touch possessive, his movents fast and primal.
The room was a blur of tangled sheets and muted shadows, but the sounds—their sounds—cut through like a blade.
I couldn’t breathe.
The bundle of laundry slipped from my arms and fell to the floor with a muffled thud, but neither of them noticed. They were lost in each other, oblivious to the storm brewing just beyond the door.
A sob clawed its way up my throat, but I swallowed it down, biting my lip so hard that the tallic tang of blood filled my mouth. I couldn’t cry—not here, not now.
I took a step back, my legs trembling beneath . The pain was unlike anything I’d ever known—raw and all-consuming, as if the mate bond itself was unraveling inside my chest. My heart scread for to run, but my body felt rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the betrayal right before .
Lorcan’s body still trembled with the aftershocks of his release as he turned slightly, his gaze locking onto mine.
For a split second, sothing flickered in his expression—sothing wild, sothing almost possessive—but then his features hardened, his emotions sealed behind an iron wall. His wolf eyes burned into , but he shoved the primal instincts away with a visible effort.
Then, as if I were nothing, he turned back to her.
He thrust into Patricia one final ti before pulling out, his movents unhurried, casual. He didn’t even look at again as he tossed the used condom into the trash with a flick of his wrist.
Patricia let out a husky giggle, running her fingers across his chest. "That was intense, babe," she purred.
Lorcan’s expression turned grim as he pulled away and began to dress, his movents quick, detached.
"This is our last ti, Patricia," he said flatly, his tone void of emotion.
Patricia blinked once before nodding, unbothered. "I get it," she drawled, stretching lazily across the bed. "Been fun, though."
I couldn’t comprehend it.
Patricia hadn’t even found her mate yet, but she had given herself to him without hesitation. Without care.
Maybe I was old-fashioned, but I had always believed in the sacredness of the mate bond. My purity wasn’t sothing to be tossed away—it was ant for my mate, a gift to be shared and cherished when our bond was complete.
To , the mate bond wasn’t just instinct. It was sacred. It was the Moon Goddess’s will.
Anything less felt like a betrayal of the very essence of what it ant to be a wolf.
And yet here they were.
Patricia stretched once more, completely unashad of her nakedness, before finally turning her gaze toward the door. Her eyes widened when she saw standing there, frozen in place.
"What the fuck?! Why are you here?" she screeched, her voice like a rusted gate.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move.
My nails dug into the folds of my dress, as if anchoring myself was the only thing keeping from clawing her face apart.
"Don’t mind her, Tish," Lorcan’s voice ca from behind her, gruff and dismissive. "Just hurry up and leave."
Patricia didn’t move right away.
Instead, she strode toward with an icy smile, her full breasts bouncing slightly, her perfect, naked body on display without sha. She stopped just inches away, tilting her head in mock curiosity.
"Oh, it’s the wolfless maid," she cooed, pretending to have just noticed . "How did I not see you? No scent at all. That explains it." She smirked. "What’s the matter? Here to deliver the laundry?"
My nails bit into my palms so hard I was surprised I didn’t draw blood.
Lorcan said nothing. He didn’t even look my way.
And in that mont, sothing inside shattered.
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