*~ Hazel’s POV~*
I held my head high. I had gone through too much in this life to let this break . Why should this mont be any different? I wrapped my babies gently in soft cloth and placed them in a little basket. The maids she had left with accompanied to the carriage.
The ride wasn’t long. It stopped before a large crowd gathered near a wide river or beach. People were diving into the water, laughing and splashing around. It was lively. But the mont I stepped out of the carriage with my babies, all eyes turned to .
I heard them. The whispers.
"That’s her... the wife."
"The shaful one."
They weren’t even trying to hide it.
Still, I didn’t flinch. Cyrius had humiliated here, yes, but I’ve endured worse. This? This was just a drop in the ocean of everything I’ve survived.
I walked forward steadily until the Alpha approached with a charming smile.
"Mrs Esther," he greeted, "thank you for honoring us with your presence. Your husband is one of our competitors, and it would’ve been improper not to invite his wife..and his precious little babies."
"Thank you, Alpha. May your reign be one of peace," I replied politely.
He gestured for to follow him to my seat. I sat down, placing the baby basket carefully on my lap. My heart fluttered nervously as I scanned the crowd for him.
But he wasn’t there.
A strange sorrow swirled in my chest. Was I really this affected just because I couldn’t see him? I turned my gaze away, desperate to find anything—anything—that could distract from this ache.
Then ca her voice. That grating, sugary voice.
"Oh my God, you ca! You look... ravishing."
I glanced up. She was smirking, pointing at my dress to her maids.
"Wait... isn’t that one of my dresses?"
"Yes," the maid said calmly. "It was in the pile of clothes you said you no longer wanted, so we moved them to her room."
Her eyes widened in mock surprise.
"So I’m giving my leftovers to people who can’t afford them now?" she said with a smug little laugh.
I blinked, looking down at the dress. Yes, it looked a little old... but still beautiful.
And still, I said nothing. I am a Luna of another pack..one far more powerful and prestigious. One of the strongest creatures standing here. Yet here I was, silently absorbing every insult hurled my way, still blaming Cyrius for all of it.
Before she could say anything more, one of her maids tapped her arm and whispered sothing. Her expression dropped instantly.
Curious, I peered around her to see what had caught her attention—
And then I saw him.
Cyrius erged from the water, droplets cascading from his body like a damn scene from a movie. His curly hair, now drenched and straight, fell into his eyes. His bare torso glistened under the sun, muscles flexing with every step.
Thank God he was wearing pants, but... even so, everything was still very visible.
I tried—really tried—to look away. But one eye refused to listen. It kept glancing back.
"Oh my God, let’s go talk to him!" she squealed and scurried away, practically sprinting toward him.
Cyrius casually pushed his wet hair away from his face, his eyes scanning the crowd—until they landed on mine.
For a few silent monts, we held each other’s gaze. Then he turned away, walking toward the beach again.
I watched as she approached him, throwing herself at him like she hadn’t just insulted monts ago. He didn’t resist. He let his hand trail across her waist as she pressed herself against his wet body.
My stomach churned.
Can’t they do this sowhere else? Get a room or sothing?
She handed him a towel, and he slowly dried himself, still standing right there like a damn sculpture carved by the gods.
The Alpha beside chuckled.
"Seems your husband is the flirty type," he teased. "Are you ready for a second wife?"
I forced a smile.
"Well, it’s not my decision to make. He’s the husband. He decides who he wants to bring ho."
The Alpha nodded.
"Maybe after he takes over his own pack back in New Orleans, he can marry my daughter. That would make him Alpha of two powerful packs. Imagine that."
"Thank God I’m not the jealous type," I said through clenched teeth.
He laughed heartily. I turned away from him. I was done playing polite.
I tried focusing on my babies. They were playing together in their basket, giggling in their own baby language I couldn’t understand. I rolled my eyes and inhaled deeply, grounding myself...
Until I felt it. That familiar energy. That presence.
"You ca," he said.
I looked up. There he was, now dry but still glistening under the sun like a freaking temptation.
I struggled to keep my gaze from drifting... lower. But my eyes betrayed . Again.
He smirked. "Hey, my eyes are up here."
I scoffed. "Well, I’m not in the mood to see anything disgusting right now, so I suggest I keep my eyes below."
He chuckled.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was invited by the Alpha." I turned toward the man who was now busy chatting with soone else.
"Well, thanks for coming," Cyrius said. "The competition starts soon. Do you want to wish luck?"
I raised an eyebrow. "I don’t believe in luck. But may the best man win."
Just then, the Alpha’s voice bood over the crowd:
"Ladies and gentlen, would the participants please step forward!"
Cyrius turned and joined the other competitors.
I watched them. All of them were built, tall, and muscular. But he... he stood out.
Maybe it was how the sun kissed his skin.
Or how his wet hair clung to his neck.
Or maybe it was just him—charismatic, confident, and damn near impossible to ignore.
I didn’t know what it was exactly.
But I couldn’t look away.
The competitors began moving toward the edge of the water, muscles flexing and adrenaline thick in the air.
The Alpha turned to the crowd with a booming voice.
"It’s ti to place your bets!"
He reached into his robes and dropped a hefty bag of coins on the table with a clink.
"I’m betting on Cyrius," he said confidently.
Aaliyah rose from her seat, flipping her hair as if she was on a runway.
"Sa," she said sweetly, locking eyes with Cyrius. He smirked at her, and one by one, others stepped forward, placing their bets on various competitors...most of them, unsurprisingly, betting on Cyrius too.
Then the Alpha turned toward .
"And you, Esther? Won’t you place a bet?"
I gave a small, polite smile.
"I don’t have any coins on ."
He chuckled and tossed a small bag of coins my way.
"Then take mine. Co place your bets."
I stood slowly, walking toward the table. My eyes scanned the line of competitors.
God knows I’m not betting on Cyrius.
And then my gaze landed on him—a man who looked out of place among the rest. Frail, smaller in stature, no intimidating muscles, and not particularly tall. But there was sothing in his eyes... a fierceness. A fire. Sothing different.
"Well," I said, "size doesn’t matter."
I placed my bet on him and pointed at the man.
The crowd murmured in confusion. Even the man himself looked stunned. No one had ever placed a bet on him before. Cyrius’ face instantly darkened.
The Alpha raised a brow.
"Are you sure you’re not placing your bet on your husband?" He emphasized the word as if to test .
"No," I said calmly. "You said I could place my bet, right? Well, I’ve placed it."
He nodded slowly.
"Well, all bets are now in."
I gave Cyrius a gentle, sugar-sweet smile and returned to my seat, unbothered. He was still glaring at when I sat.
The whistle blew.
The n dove into the water like arrows, muscles rippling and splashes flying. The race had begun.
Cyrius surged forward, taking the lead almost imdiately. His body cut through the water like a blade.
Aaliyah appeared at my side like a fly you can’t quite swat away, flanked by her minions. Her voice was syrupy and smug.
"Oh my God, look at Cyrius!" she cooed. "He’s clearly going to win."
I didn’t respond.
"Good thing I know how to spot potential," she continued with a sideways glance at . "Even though he’s not my husband... unlike so wives who can’t even support theirs."
My stomach twisted. Her voice, her energy—it all brought back mories of Natasha. The manipulation. The mind gas. The cruelty. God, I hated it. I hoped Aaliyah t the sa end as Natasha.
Just then, the crowd gasped.
Cyrius was inches away from grabbing the finish pole—victory practically in his hands—when suddenly, out of nowhere, a shadow shot up from beneath the water.
A hand snatched the pole right before Cyrius could reach it.
The crowd roared in shock.
The winner?
The small, frail-looking man I had placed my bet on.
I smiled, eyes gleaming as I stood and clapped.
"Yay! Good thing I know how to see potential in people," I said, turning toward Aaliyah. "I bet on more than just abs and attitude."
She blinked, stunned speechless.
"Excuse ," I said sweetly, brushing past her with the satisfaction of a queen who did not co to play.
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