Chapter 7 No.7

Aria POV:

The sound that left my lips wasn't a scream or a sob. It was a low, feral growl. My vision tunneled, the opulent hallway fading to a red haze. All I saw was Lyra's smug, triumphant face.

My hand moved on its own. The crack of my palm against her cheek echoed in the corridor. It was a full-force, open-handed slap that sent her stumbling back, a red handprint already blooming on her skin.

I didn't need to look behind me. I could feel him. Kaelen had emerged from his room down the hall, and his presence was a wave of glacial fury. His eyes were locked on me, promising retribution. I had struck his precious Lyra. There would be a price to pay.

I walked past them both, my head held high, the rubies at my throat feeling like armor.

The entire ball was a torment. I moved through the throngs of guests, smiling, accepting birthday wishes, all while a storm of anxiety raged within me. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for Kaelen's revenge.

The evening reached its crescendo. My father stood on the grand dais, his voice booming across the ballroom as he prepared to announce my chosen mate. The crowd buzzed with anticipation, their gazes shifting between me and Kaelen.

I found Damien in the crowd. He stood near the back, a silent, powerful pillar of support. He caught my eye and gave me a subtle, encouraging nod. It was enough to steady my nerves.

My father raised his glass. "And now, it is my great honor to present the future Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, the mate chosen by the Goddess for my daughter, Aria..."

He never finished the sentence.

Suddenly, the massive screen behind the dais, which had been displaying a serene image of a moonlit forest, flickered to life.

My breath hitched. It was me on the screen.

It was private footage, secretly recorded. Me, in the dead of night, practicing my shift in a secluded clearing. The video showed my first awkward, clumsy attempts, my half-formed wolf stumbling and falling. It was deeply personal, a moment of vulnerability I had shared with no one.

Then the scene changed. It was my bedroom. Me, clutching one of Kaelen's old training shirts, tossing and turning in my bed, whispering his name in my sleep like a lovesick fool.

A wave of hot, suffocating shame washed over me. Laughter, at first muffled, then overt, rippled through the ballroom. My deepest secrets, my most private moments of weakness and yearning, were being broadcast for the entire werewolf aristocracy to see.

This was his revenge. It was cruel. It was devastating.

Tears streamed down my face, hot and unstoppable. I felt utterly, completely broken.

"SHUT IT OFF!" my father roared, his Alpha voice shaking the very foundations of the hall. He lunged for the control panel, but the system was locked, unresponsive to his command. A stronger power was at work.

Before anyone else could react, a black shadow streaked through the crowd. It was Damien. He didn't bother with the controls. He leaped onto the dais, and with a single, savage punch, shattered the entire projection unit. The screen went black.

My father was trembling with rage. "Seal the exits!" he commanded his guards. "No one leaves this room until I find the filth responsible for this!"

The guests were in an uproar, but my father's attention was solely on me. His eyes met Damien's, a silent command passing between them.

Damien was at my side in an instant. He wrapped a protective arm around my trembling shoulders, pulling me into his solid warmth. He faced the stunned crowd, his voice a low, dangerous growl that commanded absolute attention.

"Let me make this clear," Damien declared, his eyes sweeping the room like chips of obsidian. "Aria is my choice. She will be my Luna. Any who dare to humiliate her, answer to the Onyx Fang Pack. You have just made an enemy of us all."

The blood drained from Kaelen's face. The other warriors looked on in stunned disbelief. They had pushed me, taunted me, and broken me. But they never, in their wildest dreams, imagined I would choose an outsider over one of them.