Chapter 3
“I’m sorry, Alpha,” Phoebe’s hand stretches across his chest. “Please forgive me. I just wanted to
be close to you.
I wait for him to throw off her hand, to reject her and to send her away so that he can be alone with his grief.
But I should have known better. He’s too weak.
Saying nothing, he brings her fingers to his lips, and turns her in his arms. As he pushes her forcefully into the door, his hands roving her body, I shrink to dust.
Grabbing Phoebe around the waist, he undoes his fly and pushes up her skirt as bends her over a table.
In his rush, he absentmindedly knocks over a portrait of the two of us together. Glass shatters everyone, disturbing the dark stillness of the room. He pauses to pick it up and I hover next to him hoping to see a flicker of remorse.
Instead, he growls, tearing the picture to tiny shreds. Phoebe looks up to see, but he pushes her down roughly as he kicks her legs apart and slams his hardness into her core.
She screams in pleasure as he rams into her, the tabletop rattling as more pictures from our life fall like stones around his feet.
“How could you leave me,” he grunts as he thrusts, staring ahead at the place where I’m standing. “You were mine.
Does he see me? Does he know I’m here?
“Yes, Alpha yes!” Phoebe‘ s moans of excitement break the spell and he stops. Looking at the destroyed memories around his feet, his lips curl in disgust.
With rough hands, he pulls her up the stairs to our bedroom. Ripping her dress from her shoulders, he grabs one of my nightgowns and throws it at her. “Put this on,‘ he grunts, and she nods, obeying
without question.
Stop it, I beg as he grabs my finest perfume, spritzing her liberally as she giggles in delight. Please,” I beg as he drapes a long strand of my pearls around her neck.
Those pearls had been a mating day present. He had given them to me on the night he proposed to me, asking me to be his wife and Luna.
“Tonight, you‘ re my luna,” he announces drunkenly as flips her onto the bed.
Pushing her head to the side as he enters her again, her legs open wide to receive him. She either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care as he whispers my name over and over again.
“It isn‘ t me,
“I’m right here.
I weep as he finishes inside of her. biting her hard on her marking spot, claiming her. She places her hand where his teeth once were and her lips curl upwards in contentment. “Alpha,” she sighs, glistening with sweat and the joy of their union.
Finally spent, he rolls off of her to lie in a stupor, quickly falling asleep as Phoebe pants, struggling to regain her breath. Eventually, her body settles too, and her eyes close as the alcohol and exhaustion take over and they both fall into a fitful slumber.
I watch the two of them sleep side by side the rest of the evening. I have nothing better to do, since the Moon Goddess seems amused at my suffering and sees fit to make me watch as my husband forgets me in the arms of another.
As the night wears on, I guard his slumber, thinking about all of the moments we shared in our early days. That necklace, the one around her neck, glistened brightly on my throat as we danced on our wedding day. “You are my perfect, shining jewel,” he had said to me as he twirled me on the dance floor. “My perfect Luna, now and forever.
I can’t believe he claimed her. How can he replace me so quickly?
When the sun peeks into the room around the blinds, Phoebe is the first to wake. Sighing contentedly, she traces a finger along his arm possessively as with the other hand she touches her newly formed
mark.
“Mine,” she practices quietly as she watches his chest move up and down in his sleep. “All mine.” Reaching down, she grabs the tattered remains of her dress. Instead of putting it on and creeping to her room like a good little omega, she grabs her cellphone from one of her pockets and settles back
into his arms.
Smiling sweetly, she takes a selfie in my bed wearing my jewels and my husband like a trophy, like a hunter after a well–executed kill.
Phoebe takes another photo. And another. Laughing, she wraps my pearls around her fingers, making sure her new mark is visible in every shot.
If only my hands still worked, I’d scratch the smug smile off her face.
The sheets rustle and she startles. Turning quickly, she throws down her phone, leaving it face up. It has an open web browser to her social media feed, now full of images of the two of them together. Max reaches over and grabs her phone.
