Chapter 1: A Mother’s Broken Heart

Daryana’s POV:

“Aw… do you really have to go? Can’t you stay just a little while longer? Please Lyra?”

The sound was like a physical blow. It was the soft, pleading voice of Seraphina, my eight-year-old daughter—the same daughter who, for the last few months, had barely spoken to me, barely looked at me with anything but brittle annoyance and anger. Yet, here she was, pouring out genuine, unreserved affection to an Omega woman.

My heart didn’t just flutter; it felt as if a callous, invisible hand was slowly crushing it in a vice. I choked back the bitter feeling of betrayal.

It’s alright, Daryana. She’s just a child. It’s normal for her to act out at this age, even if we used to be joined at the hip when she was younger. This is just a phase. I foolishly convinced myself she’d understand the necessity of my prolonged absences as she grew up, accepting the weight of the Obsidian Pack's burdens that kept me from her.

But then I saw the Omega woman. She laughed, a high, tinkling sound that grated on my nerves, and looked up at Marcus with a gaze that was filled with desire. My body went completely still. I leaned heavily against the door frame of the manor's rear entrance for support. My knuckles were white as my hands clenched into useless fists. They looked so idyllic, so utterly perfect, sharing chocolate-coated strawberries in the sunlit back forecourt of my house.

I rubbed the back of my hand against my neck. My entire spine ached, caused by the twelve-hour journey here. I had rushed back wanting to surprise Seraphina and Marcus, to just collapse into the comforting familiarity of my family and my chosen mate.

But the exhaustion didn’t register as badly as this. This strange, disgusting, and terrifying jealousy.

I narrowed my eyes, examining the familiar yet unrecognizable Omega. They hadn't noticed my presence, though I'd been standing there for several minutes.

How long had it been since I had smiled and shared a meal with them like this? My daughter, my husband—my pack. But I was nowhere in the picture. I was an afterthought, a duty, a title that came with too much work.

Seraphina called her Lyra, hadn't she?

Lyra. That name clicked with a sickening realization. My eyes widened, the recognition hitting me. The Omega daughter of the Rivermist Pack’s Alpha. What was she doing here? No wonder I hadn't recognized her. The last time I saw her was at my wedding, eight years ago, where she stood barely taller than my waist, a nervous girl of fourteen.

I was yanked back to the present when Lyra giggled, and finally answered Seraphina’s plea, “Oh, sweetie. I really want to stay. I truly do. But your mom is coming back home, isn't she? And honestly, I don’t think she’ll like me being here.”

I frowned, fury starting to curl in my stomach. The way she phrased her words—so sweet, so innocent, yet so subtly damning. She was planting the seed that I was the unreasonable tyrant, the obstacle to their little domestic bliss.

Of course, I wouldn’t like it! What woman would tolerate another attempting to usurp her position, to steal the love of her mate and child? Was that not just the most fundamental, primal boundary? So she was aware that what she was doing was wrong—a betrayal of pack honor, a slight against my Alpha status—but she was proceeding anyway, weaponizing her Omega frailty.

“Mom’s coming back?” Seraphina’s face instantly crumpled into a frown. She glanced at her father, whose nod was quick, almost impatient. “I forgot to tell you,” he muttered, his gaze stuck on Lyra.

My daughter proceeded to click her tongue, a sound of annoyance that chilled me to the core. “Why is she coming back early? Wasn’t she going to come back after another week? So… does this mean Lyra has to go back to her pack? She can’t stay here anymore?” The final, desperate plea in her voice—the deep, yearning sadness—shredded the last remnants of my calm.

Anymore? How long had this woman been here, precisely? A single day? A week? The casual comfort of their positions suggested a much longer presence.

I heard the distinct, soft padding of hurried footsteps behind me. Realizing someone was approaching, I quickly flattened myself against the marble of the large support beam next to the door, listening as two maids passed by. They were gossiping, their voices low.

“Poor Luna. She chose the wrong Alpha. He’s weak, and now look at how both daughter and husband are fawning over that bitch like she’s their savior. They are so ungrateful for all the sacrifices Alpha Daryana has made for them.”

I swallowed the painful, jagged lump in my throat, forcing myself to remain hidden. The two women walked further away, their voices becoming fainter, until the last line of the other maid echoed in my mind as they turned the corner of the wall. “Honestly, if only she’d chosen the Alpha King instead. He doesn’t sleep around like Alpha Marcus and has obviously always desired the Luna…”

The revelation struck me like a physical punch. Alpha Marcus sleeps around? My husband?

I paused, shaking my head violently. No. The Marcus I knew—the ambitious, charming Alpha I had chosen as my life mate—could never do that. Could he? He had promised me his eternity; he had vowed loyalty under the light of the full moon. He... he wouldn't betray me this way.

A part of me knew I was in denial….I could see the way he was looking at her.

My fists clenched so tightly my nails bit crescent wounds into my palms. Finally, I stepped out from the shadows of the doorway and began walking across the wide, circular courtyard toward them.

Marcus was the first to notice my Alpha scent and presence. He stood up abruptly, knocking over a glass of iced tea. A look of genuine surprise was plastered across his features, quickly followed by a flicker of irritation. My gaze shot to Seraphina, whose face had instantly dropped, and she looked at Lyra with a desperate yearning that utterly devastated me.

Lyra, on the other hand, had the wide, frightened eyes of a deer caught in headlights. She shot up, her mouth gaping.

“Seraphina. Go to your room.” My voice was low and I didn't waste time on pleasantries or false greetings. I wasn't such a huge pushover. I knew she was just a child and that talking to her in the immediate presence of this woman wouldn’t solve anything—not until I sorted things out with the source of the rot.

Seraphina glanced at Lyra, then at Marcus, who gave her a sharp nod. Only then did she cross her arms, frown deeply, and stomp her feet as she marched away, crossing the courtyard and disappearing through the door into the house.

I turned my full attention back to the Omega, then to Marcus. The maids' venomous words rang in my ears, fueling the cold fire in my chest. “How long have you been living in my house?” I asked the Omega, my voice dangerously even. Before Lyra could spin her web of lies, I added, “And if you lie, I assure you that I will find out, and you will be punished accordingly.”

“Daryana!” Marcus roared, placing his body squarely between Lyra and me.

I frowned, the sight was a confirmation that was worse than any verbal admission. He looked angry. Not apologetic, not guilty, but furiously angry—at me, as if I were the aggressor, the intruder, the one in the wrong.

Only then did the full, bitter truth finally dawn on me with bone-chilling clarity. Oh. Marcus Stone Moonfall had truly changed. The ambitious Alpha who’d promised to look at me with nothing but fierce love and unwavering understanding had allowed himself to become soft, entitled, and utterly corrupted by his own ego and the siren call of another woman.

I clenched my jaw, pushing down the raw, burning emotion threatening to spill out and humiliate me further. “You… cheated on me?” I asked, the question barely a whisper, a plea for him to deny the undeniable.

Before he could answer or speak a single, damning word, Lyra collapsed to her knees. I stepped back, startled by the sudden, dramatic display, only to find her looking up at me with large, tear-filled eyes. She began to sob, the sound entirely too loud in the stillness of the courtyard. “I’m so sorry, Luna… please, don’t blame Alpha Marcus.” She sniffled, her voice catching. “It—It wasn’t his fault. I—I was the one who seduced him.”

It felt like my heart was going to shatter; I could practically hear the cracking sound of my entire world threatening to break apart.

She moved forward on her knees, an obvious, desperate begging look in her eyes, intending to grab my leg or my hand for maximum effect. But I couldn’t think; I couldn’t even breathe. Before I could process the action, my hand pulled up, fueled by a primal rage and the agony of betrayal, and I slapped her across her cheek.

Just as the silence descended—just as the realization dawned that I, the principled Alpha, had hit someone weaker than me, an unprecedented act—my shoulders were roughly shoved back. A loud roar sounded, an animalistic, guttural sound of fury that I had never heard from Marcus's wolf before. A hard, stinging slap landed with force on my own face, snapping my head back.

“How dare you touch her!” he spat. The world blurred. He had struck me? My mate had struck me for the sake of an Omega?