Chapter 3

　　Eva's POV

　　=The pack house was lit up when I got back, which meant everyone already knew.

　　Maeve was already in the sitting room when I got there.

　　She was seated across from my mother with a cup of tea in her hand, her back straight. Like she was doing everyone a favor by being present.

　　My mother looked up when I walked in. "Eva." She started to rise.

　　"She's fine," Maeve said, without looking at me. "Come and sit down, Eva. We have things to discuss."

　　I stayed where I was. "What are you still doing here?"

　　Maeve set her cup down with a small, careful click.

　　"I'm here because someone needs to be reasonable. The ceremony can be rescheduled. These things happen. What matters now is how we handle it going forward, not how dramatically we react in the moment."

　　"Dramatically," I repeated.

　　"You stormed out of your own ceremony." Her voice stayed level. "Do you have any idea what that looked like? The damage to the pack's reputation alone—"

　　Her son was the one who left me at the altar.

　　"Maeve." My mother's voice was quiet but firm.

　　Maeve ignored her. "Eva, you are not a child. You are the heir to one of the most powerful packs in the world, and you are expected to conduct yourself accordingly. Julian made a mistake. Men make mistakes. That does not mean you throw away a bond and an alliance because your feelings are hurt."

　　I almost laughed. I stood there in the same dress I had put on this morning, with Julian's mark still fresh on my skin, and she was reducing all of it to hurt feelings.

　　"You should cherish the only person who is still willing to mark you," Maeve continued, like she was reading from a list. "Or have you forgotten? Your own fated mate rejected you. Publicly.

　　The Alpha King stood in front of the entire Pack Assembly and told you that you lacked the qualities of an heir. He dismissed you in front of everyone."

　　I was sixteen the first time I saw Lysander Nightshade. I had stood up in front of everyone and defended the concept of fated mates because I believed in it completely.

　　He had argued against me without blinking. Cold and certain and completely unmoved by the fact that I was a person standing in front of him.

　　Then my wolf awakened, and my fated mate was him.

　　The moon goddess had looked at everything I was and handed me the one person I wanted least.

　　Lysander had rejected the bond without hesitation, arranged my Chosen Mate ceremony with Julian, and gone back to his life as if none of it had touched him.

　　My wolf had felt the rejection like a physical wound; something in her had gone quiet after that, curled in on itself, and never fully came back.

　　And now Maeve sat in my mother's house, expecting me to thank Julian for still choosing me.

　　"Julian is still your Chosen Mate," Maeve continued. "He wants to make this right. You should treasure that instead of throwing it away on a whim."

　　"Get out." My voice came out low and completely steady. "I need to be alone, get out of this room."

　　Maeve blinked. "Eva—"

　　"I said get out."

　　She stood slowly and straightened her jacket.

　　"You're upset. I understand that. But when you've calmed down, you'll see that I'm right." She looked at my mother. "Cordelia. Talk some sense into your daughter." And then she walked out.

　　My mother waited until her footsteps faded down the hall. Then she crossed the room and put her arms around me.

　　I had been holding everything in since the altar. Through the ceremony, the hospital, and Maeve's voice cutting through the room like none of it was real.

　　I fell apart in my mother's arms.

　　I cried in a way I hadn't since I was little, my voice coming out in ragged sobs. She held me and didn't say anything, and that was the only thing that helped at all.

　　After a while, I heard the front door open. Then my father's voice and footsteps came towards us.

　　I pulled back and straightened before he reached the door. I wiped my face. I was not going to let him see me like that.

　　"You need to accept the child," my father said.

　　The words hit me like cold water. "What?"

　　"A Chosen Mate bond cannot be broken without consequences. The alliance between our packs has taken years to build." He folded his hands on his knee, unhurried, like he was discussing something administrative. "What happened today was unfortunate. But ending the bond over it would cause damage that goes far beyond you and Julian."

　　I stared at him. My own father. Sitting across from me in the house I grew up in, looking at me like I was a piece on a board that had moved out of position.

　　"He has a son," I said. "He had a son the entire time, and he said nothing."

　　"I'm aware of what he did."

　　"Then how are you sitting there telling me to accept it?"

　　"Because this is bigger than what you want." His voice didn't rise. "You are the heir to this pack, Eva. Your decisions carry weight. Breaking this bond damages us. It damages our standing, our alliances, everything we have built."

　　"Everything you have built," I said.

　　His jaw tightened slightly. "Don't."

　　The fury that moved through me then was so clean and sharp it almost felt like clarity. I had spent my entire life trying to be what this pack needed. What he needed. I had trained and studied and performed and smiled and stood at that altar today, ready to give the rest of my life to it.

　　"I won't accept the child," I said. I picked up my bag from the chair. "And I won't reschedule the ceremony."

　　"Eva." His voice hardened. "If you walk out of this room—"

　　I walked out of the room.

　　I didn't stop moving until I was outside, through the back of the property, into the stretch of forest at the edge of our territory. I used to come here when I was a girl, when the house felt too full of everyone else's expectations, and I needed somewhere that belonged only to me.

　　I sat on the ground and let the silence settle around me.

　　Two rejections. My fated mate had looked at me and chosen to walk away. My chosen mate had stood at an altar carrying a secret for years. My own father had just told me to absorb it and be useful.

　　I was so tired of being the one who was expected to hold everything together while it kept falling apart.

　　Then my wolf stirred, definitely not the small, restless movement she sometimes made when I was upset. Something different.

　　Something that felt almost like recognition, which made no sense because there was nothing out here but trees and darkness and—

　　I looked up just then.

　　Lysander Nightshade was standing at the edge of the tree line, watching me.