Faking a Bond with the Monster Lycan

"To a prosperous winter," I announced, raising the silver ceremonial goblet.

"To the Luna!" the crowd echoed back.

The Winter Festival banquet hummed with the chatter of three hundred pack elites. Elder Thorne tapped his glass against mine.

"Your trade agreements secured us enough grain to survive the frost," Thorne said.

"It was a collective effort, Elder," I replied.

"Modest as always, Seraphina. Alpha Kaelen is lucky to have you."

Before I could thank him, the oak double doors smashed open.

The heavy wood slammed against the stone walls. The violent crack silenced the room instantly.

I lowered the cup.

Alpha Kaelen strode into the hall. Blustering snow swirled past his boots, melting against the heated floorboards.

My eyes locked on his arms.

He carried a girl.

She wore a threadbare cotton dress, her thin frame shivering violently against his chest. An unfamiliar, sweet scent clung to her—a rogue Omega.

He didn't stop to greet the elders. He marched straight toward me at the head table.

"Kaelen?" I asked, keeping my tone perfectly level. "Who is this?"

He didn't answer. His hand shot out.

His fingers clamped over the silver goblet in my grip. He yanked it away, spilling dark red wine over my knuckles. He shoved the cup into the Omega's trembling hands.

"Drink, Elara," he ordered.

The girl whimpered, shrinking against his chest. "I... I'm scared, Alpha. Everyone is staring at me."

"Let them stare," he told her, his voice booming across the silent hall. "You are home now."

Kaelen turned his gaze to the crowd. He refused to look at me.

"The Moon Goddess has spoken," he declared to the three hundred wolves. "This is Elara. She is my Fated Mate."

A sharp, tearing agony ripped through the center of my chest.

The mate bond. Five years of shared strength, snapping like brittle wire inside my ribcage.

I locked my knees to stay standing. My spine went rigid. I pressed my thumbs into my palms, letting my nails dig hard enough to carve four bloody half-moons into the skin.

Murmurs erupted across the tables. Chairs scraped against the stone floor.

"Alpha," Elder Thorne spoke up from the front row. "Seraphina is your chosen Luna. You bound yourselves to this pack five years ago."

"The Goddess overrides tradition," Kaelen snapped.

"But the pack relies on Luna Seraphina," Elder Morrow added, standing up from his seat. "She negotiated the winter trade routes. She balances the treasury."

"Enough!" Kaelen roared. "I am the Alpha. My word is absolute."

Silence slammed back down over the room.

I looked at the elders. They lowered their heads, submitting to his Alpha command. I was entirely on my own.

"Does she override the pack laws?" I asked.

Kaelen finally met my gaze. His eyes flashed with warning. "Do not question the Goddess, Seraphina."

"I am questioning you," I corrected. "You bring a rogue into the sacred hall during the Winter Festival."

"She is not a rogue anymore," he shot back. "She is your future Luna."

I turned away from the spectacle. I adjusted my posture and stepped toward the high seat—the chair carved with the Luna's crest.

"Then we will discuss the separation terms in the morning," I said calmly. "I will have my bags packed."

A heavy hand slammed down on my shoulder.

Kaelen’s touch used to be my shield against the brutal winters. Now, his palm burned like a branding iron through my silk gown. My stomach cramped violently, a wave of nausea rolling through my gut.

He forcefully pushed me down. Not into the high seat, but into the secondary chair meant for the Beta.

"You aren't going anywhere, Seraphina," he stated.

"Are you holding me prisoner?" I asked, staring up at him.

"Elara knows nothing of pack politics or running a territory." He gestured to the girl. "You will stay here. You will train her to be a proper successor."

A laugh escaped my throat. A short, sharp sound.

Elder Thorne flinched. Elara let out a pathetic cry, burying her face deeper into Kaelen's neck.

"You want your discarded wife to tutor your new mate?" I asked.

"Keep your voice down," he warned, leaning closer.

"I am asking a simple question," I pushed back, my tone rising. "You expect me to teach her how to take my place?"

"I expect you to act like an adult," he retorted. "This is bigger than your pride."

"My pride?" I repeated. "You humiliate me in front of three hundred people, and you call it my pride?"

"It is the will of the Goddess," he stated, as if that erased everything.

"Then let the Goddess teach her how to balance the ledgers," I said.

"I am your Alpha, and I am giving you a direct order," Kaelen growled. "You know the operations better than anyone. You will shape her into a Luna."

"Find someone else."

"There is no one else," he insisted. "The pack respects you. If you endorse her, the transition will be smooth."

"You want me to hand her my crown on a silver platter," I summarized.

"I want you to do what is best for our people," he argued.

I didn't look at Elara. I fixed my gaze on the leather cord resting against his collarbone.

The wolf tooth necklace. I had carved it for him on our wedding night. He still wore it.

"And if I refuse?" I asked.

"You won't," he replied coldly. "Your loyalty to this pack has always come first. Do your duty."

"Duty," I repeated softly.

"Please, Alpha," Elara whimpered, tugging on his shirt. "I'm so cold. The stone walls are freezing."

"Come, Elara," Kaelen murmured, his tone softening instantly. "I'll take you to our room to warm up."

Our room.

The master bedroom I had spent weeks decorating, painting the walls, weaving the heavy winter blankets by hand.

"Alpha," Elara whispered as he turned. "Is she mad at me? I didn't mean to steal you."

"She knows her place," Kaelen answered, not bothering to lower his voice. "She will do as she is told."

He turned his back on me and carried her toward the private wing of the estate.

The banquet hall remained dead silent. No one touched their food. No one spoke. They all watched me, waiting for a breakdown.

Waiting for tears.

I didn't give them a single drop.

I watched Kaelen's broad shoulders disappear down the dim hallway. The heavy oak door of the master suite clicked shut at the far end.

I slid my hand into the hidden pocket of my dress skirt.

My fingers brushed against cold metal.

I pulled it out, keeping it hidden in the folds of the fabric.

The black iron key.

The only access point to the pack's underground vault. Kaelen thought I was just a dutiful wife, a glorified secretary who managed the ledgers.

He forgot who actually held the territory's lifeblood.

If he wanted to replace me, he was going to have to pay for it.