Chapter 2

Stella

The small stones on the sidewalk bit into my bare feet with each desperate stride, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the panic squeezing my chest.

Chloe had been born on a full moon night—a rare Omega whose scent carried an almost supernatural pull over Alphas, intoxicating in a way mine never could be.

In the werewolf world, a weak or unpleasant scent marked an Omega as undesirable—unworthy of a strong Alpha's protection, unworthy of a good match, unworthy of almost everything.

So I had to get to Liam now—before Chloe's Full Moon scent fully captivated him.

Please let him be home. Please let him be alone.

The prayer looped through my head with every step as I ran through empty streets, my nightgown whipping around my legs.

The villa wasn't far—maybe a fifteen-minute walk on a normal day.

Liam's grandfather had bought it as an engagement gift, choosing Silverwood Heights because it was close to my family's place.

Back then, I thought everything was finally getting better.

Liam didn't mind my scent. His family didn't seem to care about it either.

I thought I was finally going to escape.

I'd always seen Liam as my lifeline, my only way out.

This time, I couldn't let Chloe take this away too.

Tonight, I had to get Liam to mark me—I couldn't wait until our wedding night.

The moment I was marked, my family would lose all claim over me. "I'd belong to the Sinclair Pack. My family would have no power over me anymore."

The villa's iron gates finally came into view, and relief flooded through me so intensely my knees nearly buckled.

I stumbled to the door lock, my trembling fingers hovering over the keypad as I forced myself to slow down, to breathe, to think clearly.

The code was our anniversary—the date we'd met at that charity gala three years ago, when Liam's kind smile had made me believe that maybe, just maybe, my defective scent didn't define my worth.

The gate clicked open.

I stumbled through and followed the stone pathway toward the house, each step leaving a small smear of blood from my torn feet.

The villa loomed before me, all modern angles and floor-to-ceiling windows that reflected the moonlight like scattered diamonds.

I pushed open the door to complete darkness.

The light switch was by the staircase.

I navigated through the blackness by memory and touch, one hand trailing along the wall as I made my way toward where the stairs should be, searching for the switch.

A strange unease prickled along my spine, some instinct whispering that something was wrong, but I shoved it down.

Suddenly, my foot caught on something.

I nearly fell forward with a gasp, my arms windmilling as I fought to catch my balance.

My hand slapped against the wall and found the light switch purely by accident.

I pressed it desperately as I steadied myself, and light flooded the foyer with brutal suddenness.

I blinked against the glare, my vision clearing to focus on what had tripped me.

A shoe.

A single red-soled high heel lying abandoned on the pristine marble floor, its distinctive crimson bottom catching the light like a wound.

My heart stopped.

Then it started again, beating so hard I could feel it in my throat, in my temples, in my torn and bleeding feet.

I knew this shoe.

The recognition hit me like a physical blow, driving the air from my lungs.

Liam had given me these shoes as an engagement gift six months ago. Limited edition. A designer whose waiting list stretched years.

He'd smiled when he presented them alongside the ring, said the crimson matched my spirit, that he wanted me to wear them on our wedding day.

I'd been so happy I'd cried.

Then I'd brought them home, and Chloe had seen them.

My sister's golden eyes had gone wide with want, her Full Moon scent spiking with that covetous desire I knew so well.

She'd reached for the box with hands that had taken everything else I'd ever owned.

"These are gorgeous, Stella. They'd look perfect with my new dress. Let me borrow them."

For once—for once in my entire life—I'd said no.

They were from Liam. They were mine.

They symbolized everything I'd fought so hard to believe: that I deserved beautiful things, that someone could love me despite my defective scent, that I wasn't just Chloe's inferior shadow forever destined to hand over anything she wanted.

I'd refused, and Chloe had run crying to our mother.

Mother's voice, sharp with disappointment: "Stop being selfish, Stella."

Father's cold dismissal: "It's just a pair of shoes. What's wrong with letting your sister wear them?"

The pressure from Father and Mother kept coming at me in waves, relentless and suffocating.

In the end, I gave in and handed over the shoes.

Watched Chloe's triumphant smile as she'd walked away with yet another piece of what should have been mine.

And now one of those shoes was here.

In the villa Liam and I were supposed to share.

Lying on the floor like evidence at a crime scene.

My whole body was shaking as I stared at it, my mind racing through possibilities, excuses, anything that could explain this away as something innocent.

A sound drifted down from upstairs.

Soft. Breathy. Unmistakable.

A moan.

My brain seemed to explode, thoughts scattering like shrapnel.

My brain was screaming at me to find some other explanation, any other explanation, but deep down I already knew the truth—and my body was trying to shut down rather than face it.

But I couldn't shut down. Couldn't look away.

Couldn't do anything but stand there, frozen, as another sound drifted down—Liam's voice, rough and low, saying something I couldn't quite make out.

Then Chloe's laugh.

In that sickeningly sweet voice she always used, she purred, "Faster, Liam. Get inside me."

I had to see it. I had to know for certain.

All the way up, every few steps revealed another piece of clothing they'd stripped off—each one like a knife driving deeper into my heart.

Chloe's breathy moans echoed through the house, punctuated by Liam's low, guttural groans. My hand gripped the railing so hard my knuckles went white, but I kept climbing. Past Chloe's skirt. Past Liam's belt. Past the point of no return.

The bedroom door stood ajar at the end of the hallway—our bedroom, the one Liam and I were supposed to share after our wedding. Soft lamplight spilled through the gap.

I stopped in the doorway, my body frozen even as my mind screamed at me to look away.

Through the narrow opening, I could see everything. Chloe was on her back, completely naked, her legs wrapped around Liam's waist. Her hands clawed at his shoulders, nails leaving red marks down his back.

"Harder," she whimpered, her voice breaking. "Please, Liam, harder."

He complied immediately, his pace quickening. The bed frame creaked beneath them, headboard knocking against the wall in time with his movements. Chloe's breasts bounced with each thrust, and Liam leaned down to take one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard enough to make her cry out.

"God, you feel so good," Liam groaned, his voice rough and breathless. "So tight, baby. So perfect."

They were on our bed. Our bed. Chloe's back arched beneath Liam's body, their limbs tangled together in a way that left no room for doubt, no possibility of innocent explanation. They moved as one, completely lost in each other, and the intimacy of it—the easy way they fit together—made them look like true fated mates.

My throat closed up. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I could do was stand there and watch the man I was supposed to marry fuck my sister in the bed we'd picked out together.

Liam buried his face in the curve of Chloe's neck, inhaling deeply.

"Your scent smells so good, baby," he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with pleasure. "Honestly, I'm so sick of Stella's disgusting smell.

If it weren't for the fact that she's been with me for so long, and she's pretty, and my grandfather likes her, I wouldn't want to mate with a defective Omega like her.

She's always begging me to mark her—I'm so fucking tired of it."

Hearing Liam say this, Chloe became even more enthusiastic. Her hands pressed against Liam's abdomen as she rode him with increasing vigor, her moans growing louder and more enticing.

"Yes," she gasped between breaths.

"My sister is such bad luck. My mother says nothing good has happened to our family since she was born."

"Thank god I came along. Mom says I was born on a full moon night—a sign of good fortune."

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a needy whisper. "She says I'm the one who deserves you, Liam."

Her rhythm quickened. "Will you mark me as your mate?"

Something inside me shattered.

"Of course, baby," Liam groaned, his voice strained. "I'll figure something out. But right now I'm so close—fuck, I'm almost there. Faster, faster, give it to me—"

I watched as Chloe smiled with satisfaction, her expression triumphant even in the throes of pleasure.

"Yes, my Alpha," she purred. "My future Alpha."she purred happily, moving exactly as he demanded.

I stood there watching everything unfold in that room, and the betrayal crushed me completely. Liam had been my only lifeline, and now even he had been taken from me with my parents' help and handed over to Chloe.

I didn't burst through the door to confront them. What would be the point? I was the defective one, the unlucky one. They would only tell me I was being dramatic, that I should be grateful anyone wanted me at all.

My hand clamped over my mouth to muffle the sob threatening to escape. I couldn't let them hear me.

I turned away from the door and walked toward the stairs. I had no idea where I would go or what I would do, but I knew one thing with absolute certainty.

I needed to leave.