Chapter 4
The delicate clink of china cups filled the parlor as I moved silently between the tables, refilling teacups and arranging pastries on silver platters. My hands trembled slightly—not from the weight of the trays, but from the effort of maintaining my composure.
"More tea, Luna Catherine?" I asked, approaching a woman with auburn hair who sat at the center table.
She looked up, her eyes flickering with confusion. "Thank you... wait, you have the most refined accent I've ever heard from pack staff. Where did you learn to speak so properly?"
The table fell silent. All eyes turned to me.
"I'm not staff," I said quietly, my voice steady despite the humiliation burning in my chest. "I am Kehlani Flores, Luna of Shadow Creek Pack."
A titter of uncomfortable laughter rippled through the gathering. Luna Catherine's face flushed with embarrassment.
"Oh! I—I'm so sorry, I thought..."
"It's quite all right," I assured her, though my cheeks burned. "The mistake is understandable."
"Understandable?" Elena's voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. She rose from her seat, her face twisted with fury. "There is nothing understandable about this disgrace!"
In three quick strides, she crossed to where I stood. Before I could react, her hand cracked across my face with enough force to snap my head to the side.
The room went deathly silent.
"How dare you embarrass this pack with your pathetic attempts at dignity?" Elena hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "You are nothing but a weak, unworthy mate who can't even maintain a proper Luna presence."
I straightened slowly, tasting blood where my lip had cut against my teeth. My cheek burned, but the pain in my chest was far worse.
"Elder Elena," I began, fighting to keep my voice level, "I was simply—"
"Simply what?" Bridget's voice came from the head table, sweet as poisoned honey. She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Simply reminding everyone how inadequate you are?"
She turned to the assembled Lunas, her voice rising just enough to ensure everyone heard. "Don't worry, Elena. Some of us know how to carry the title properly."
Laughter rippled through the room—nervous, complicit laughter from women who knew better than to cross the Alpha's mother or his favored female.
I stood frozen, the weight of their ridicule pressing down on me like physical blows. Then I felt it—a small presence watching from above.
I looked up toward the landing that overlooked the parlor. Hollis stood there, his small hand gripping the banister, tears streaming down his face as he witnessed his mother's humiliation.
Our eyes met across the distance. In that moment, something shifted inside me—the final thread of my endurance snapping clean.
I had endured years of this treatment for love, for the mate bond that had brought me nothing but pain. But seeing my son's confusion and hurt—realizing that staying was harming him more than leaving ever could—changed everything.
---
Night fell over the Pack House, bringing with it a silence that felt like a reprieve. I slipped into my room, locking the door behind me before leaning against it and closing my eyes.
My cheek still stung from Elena's slap, but the pain had become almost insignificant compared to the clarity that had settled over me.
I crossed to my dresser, opening the bottom drawer and removing a false panel. Beneath it lay a small black phone—encrypted, untraceable, and my last connection to my true identity.
With trembling fingers, I powered it on and waited for the screen to illuminate. Then I closed my eyes, reaching deep within myself to access a mind-link connection that stretched far beyond pack borders.
"Zyair," I whispered into the silence.
For a moment, there was nothing. Then his presence flooded my consciousness—powerful, protective, and blazing with barely contained fury.
"Kehlani." His mental voice was tight with restraint. "It's been too long."
"I need to come home," I said simply.
A pause. Then: "Tell me what happened."
The story poured out of me—years of neglect, of Bridget's manipulations, of Nathaniel's cold indifference. I told him about Hollis's ceremony, about the slap at the tea party, about seeing my son's tears as he watched his mother being humiliated.
"I've been a fool," I finished. "I thought love could overcome anything. I was wrong."
"Where is he now?" Zyair's voice was deadly quiet.
"Downstairs with Bridget. Always with Bridget."
I took a deep breath and spoke the word that would change everything: "Eclipse."
There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the connection. The code word—our prearranged signal that I was ready for extraction.
"You're sure?" he asked, though I could hear the relief in his voice.
"I'm sure. I want to reject the bond. I want to come home."
"Then hold on, little sister," Zyair said, his voice hardening with determination. "I'll have the Royal Guard mobilized within the hour. Forty-eight hours—that's all I need."
As I ended the connection and hid the phone again, a strange calm settled over me. For the first time in years, I felt something like hope stirring in my chest.
In forty-eight hours, I would be free. And Nathaniel Cole would learn exactly what happened when you betrayed a Lycan Princess.
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