Chapter 2
Marcus looked relieved at my compliance. Openly defying the Elder Council's decision was a cardinal sin among wolves, even for a pure-blood.
Linda wore a satisfied smile, too, her eyes glinting with triumph.
But when they left, Ella lingered, refusing to go.
"Ivy, let me help you pack," she offered, standing in front of me with a smile, her pheromones oozing false sweetness.
As she glanced around the room, though, greed flickered in her eyes. It was a low-ranking wolf's hunger for the privileges of a higher station.
Ella said, tilting her chin up, provocation clear in her gaze, "I never thought the Elder Council would agree to let us swap.
"Your wolf's dying to tear me apart right now, isn't it?
"After all, I stole your fated mate, Ethan... and now I'm snatching the room you've lived in for ten years."
I clamped down on the urge to let my wolf lash out, turning to grab my suitcase.
But Ella let out an exaggerated shriek, throwing herself backward and landing hard on the floor.
"Ivy..." Ella whimpered.
Her arm hit the silver-inlaid table corner—silver, toxic to wolves—and a burning purple bruise bloomed on her skin instantly.
Ethan's Alpha hearing picked up the noise, and he burst through the door seconds later, his face gloomy with anger. "Ivy, what are you doing?"
It was a sure sign an Alpha was about to snap. He squatted, lifting Ella into his arms, his touch tender as he checked her injury.
"Ethan, I'm okay. Ivy didn't do it on purpose," Ella said softly, wiping at her tears.
She put on a brave face, forcing a small smile through the pain. "It doesn't hurt at all, Ethan."
"You're burned, and you still say it doesn't hurt?" Ethan's voice was soft, almost tender, as he gazed at Ella's injured arm.
But when he looked up at me, though, his golden pupils narrowed, and an icy chill rolled off him in waves.
He snapped, "If you have a problem, take it up with me.
"Leave Ella alone. She's a fragile she-wolf who just went through her first transformation.
"Unlike you, born into nobility as a pure-blood, with everything handed to you on a silver platter."
I thought I'd moved past the mate bond, that I'd never shed another tear for Ethan.
But I was still a she-wolf, my bond not yet fully severed.
I had no iron heart, no unbreakable resolve.
This was the boy I'd grown up with, my childhood ally.
The fated mate the Moon Goddess had blessed, the one I'd waited three years for.
In just days, he'd cast me aside for a fleeting infatuation with a newly transformed young she-wolf, treating me like a vicious Rogue.
I didn't want to cry. I even wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
But my tear ducts burned, tight and painful.
"Ethan, did your nose stop working? Can't you tell what kind of person I am or smell the stink of her lies?" I shot back.
Ethan's brows furrowed.
He locked eyes with me, that Alpha's piercing stare sizing me up, and for a moment, his expression seemed to waver.
*****
But Ella cut through the silence with a whimper, like a hurt cub. "Ethan, don't fight with Ivy because of me. I deserve her anger... it's only right."
Her voice was small, fragile, stoking the excess protectiveness in Ethan's veins.
The hesitation in his eyes vanished, replaced by cold resolve.
Ethan said, his voice icy and accusing, "You're just jealous that my wolf picked Ella.
"You can't stand that I treat her better. You hate that everyone in the Pack adores her.
"Ivy, you've changed. Now you're like those fallen Rogues, twisted by jealousy."
With that, he carried Ella out of the room, leaving behind a thick cloud of his angry pheromones.
I watched their retreating figures, and suddenly realized my tears had dried up.
Maybe that was for the best.
I'd cried enough these past few days, thanks to the fraying mate bond.
From now on, I'd never shed another tear for him.
That night, WolfDen, the private group chat for the Pack's younger generation, blew up.
Ethan posted a single message: [What do you do when you suddenly crave to finish the marking ceremony?]
The group chat went wild.
[Ethan! Are you finally going to mate with Ivy, under the Moon Goddess' watch?]
[Does this mean we call Ivy Luna now?]
Messages flooded in, everyone tagging me: [Congratulations, Ivy! When's the mating feast? You owe us Moonlight Wine!]
[Ethan, spill. When's the big day?]
I reached for my phone, ready to set the record straight.
I wasn't their future Luna, and Ethan had no intention of marking me.
But Ethan beat me to it.
He replied: [You've all got it wrong. I never said my wolf picked Ivy.]
Seconds later, he added Ella to the group, then tagged everyone: [Look closely. This is your future Luna.]
The chat went silent, as if hit by an Alpha's silence order.
No one typed a word for long, tense seconds.
Ethan said: [Why is everyone so quiet? Greet your future Luna. That's an Alpha order.]
Slowly, awkward messages trickled in. They were half-hearted greetings, laced with deference and discomfort.
I stared at the screen for a moment, then typed: [Congratulations. May the Moon Goddess bless you both.]
After sending it, I left the group, cutting the last thin thread tying me to Silvermoon's younger generation.