Tristan’s POV

The bass vibrated through my bones as I sat in the VIP section of the bar. Red lights bathed everything in a bloody glow while the scent of expensive perfume, sweat, and alcohol hung heavy in the air. I rotated the crystal tumbler in my hand, watching the amber liquid swirl against the sides.

“Fucking bond-breaking ritual,” I muttered, downing the remaining whiskey in one burning gulp.

The image of Lysandra handing me the scroll kept flashing through my mind. She’d had them for months. Months. Planning her escape while playing the dutiful wife. The thought made my blood boil.

My wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin, a low growl rumbling through our shared consciousness. Ever since I’d married that woman, my inner beast had been acting strangely—drawn to her in ways I couldn’t comprehend. A wolfless werewolf, a genetic defect, yet my wolf seemed fascinated by her.

“You’re a traitor,” I told him silently. “She manipulated my father with that innocent act, made him believe she was the one from that damn prophecy.”

Two years ago, my father had summoned me to his study. I still remembered the grave expression on his face as he told me I needed to marry and mark Lysandra as my mate, a girl from a low-ranking Gamma family.

When I’d refused, he’d dropped the bomb—there was a prophecy, one passed down through generations of Alpha bloodlines. He wouldn’t tell me all of it, only that Lysandra was crucial to preventing some coming disaster.

I clenched my jaw. She had somehow discovered that prophecy and used it to elevate herself from nobody to potential Luna of the Silverblood Pack. The ultimate social climber.

I signaled the server for another drink. “That scheming bitch prepared severance request behind my back, thinking I wouldn’t sign. Did she expect me to beg her to stay?” I laughed bitterly. “I crushed her little game and now she has to live with the consequences.”

The hatred I felt toward Lysandra burned in my chest, a constant reminder of how I’d been forced to mark her. The bond that formed was incomplete, one-sided at best. She bore the weight of it more than I ever would.

That’s how it worked—when the marking wasn’t mutual, the marked one felt everything, while the one who did the marking could block it out, especially if they wanted nothing to do with their so-called mate. And I didn’t. That’s why I knew—when the severance ritual came, she’d be the one in agony. Not me.

Still, my wolf disagreed, fighting me whenever I tried to explain how worthless she was.

“Tristan,” a soft voice cut through the haze of alcohol. “I’m sorry she’s putting you through this.”

I looked up to see Selene standing before me, her red dress clinging to every curve of her body. The scar on her right arm—proof she’d saved my life when we were children—stood out starkly against her pale skin. She slid into the booth beside me, pressing her warm body against mine.

I’d told her about the severance ritual earlier tonight—spat it out between clenched teeth, too angry to keep it in. I shouldn’t have said anything, but the fury had needed somewhere to go.

And now here she was.

Where Lysandra was plain and unremarkable, Selene was breathtaking—lush curves, perfect features, and a confidence that radiated from her core.

I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Don’t be. It’s exactly what I wanted.”

Selene’s nails traced circles on my thigh. “You deserve a real Luna.” She leaned closer, her lips brushing my ear. “Only I know how to please a true Alpha. I’ll be your perfect Luna.”

My wolf snarled in response, baring teeth inside my mind. I ignored him, focusing instead on the alluring woman pressed against me.

Selene’s tongue darted out to wet her lips as she stared directly into my eyes. “Come upstairs with me.” Her hand slid toward my belt, her intentions crystal clear.

I grabbed her wrist, bringing her hand to my lips. “Lead the way.”

The private suite upstairs was dimly lit, with a plush king-sized bed dominating the space. As soon as the door closed behind us, Selene turned and pressed her body against mine, her lips finding mine in a hungry kiss.

She guided me to the bed, straddling my lap as she loosened the ties of her dress. The fabric slipped down, revealing her naked shoulders and the tops of her breasts. She ground against me, eliciting a primal response from my body.

NO! SHE IS NOT YOUR MATE!

She is NOTHING! If you sleep with her, I will take over your body. You know I can.