Sloane stood outside her father's home, her gaze heavy on the large house. Her heart hammered heavily in her chest, her lips caught between her teeth. Finally, she gathered enough courage to walk in. The guards by the door greeted her. "Welcome home, Miss Sloane."
Sloane gave a stiff nod, her breath shaky as she stepped through the front doors of her father's home. The familiar walls, the air was thick with memories, the scent of the ever-present humidifier drifting through the open doorway. Her father was sensitive to scents, always had been, and the faint mist of eucalyptus and chamomile helped.
Her fingers curled into her palms as she made her way down the hallway, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. There were too many things echoing in her head. First, she had to explain to her father that she didn't. That it was all a lie and she would never cheat on Ryland.
Sloane knew what Ryland meant to him. Dante had worshipped the very ground Ryland walked on. The moment their relationship became public, her father had been prouder than a peacock, more thrilled about her future as Luna than anything else she had ever achieved. It hadn't mattered that she had trained harder than anyone, that she had sacrificed, bled, fought for this pack. None of it had made him as proud as when she became Ryland's. The fact that his daughter was going to be Luna. He thrived off it.
And now? Now, all of it was gone.
She could still see it. That moment. The way he had looked at her. The raw disappointment in his eyes. The way he had pushed her hand off of him like her touch disgusted him.
Sloane had made many mistakes in her life, but never had she seen her father stare at her like she was the biggest one. It crushed her soul, and now she was here to explain. To plead and ask him for his forgiveness if need be.
Then, she saw her.
Celeste stood in the center of the parlor, arms crossed over her chest, her blonde curls cascading over her shoulder in perfect waves. She looked… unbothered.
Sloane's throat tightened. "Celeste?"
Celeste turned lazily, her expression unreadable. "Oh," she said flatly. "You're here."
The casual dismissal, the complete lack of warmth, sent a chill down Sloane's spine.
"I—" Sloane swallowed. "I need to talk to you."
Celeste arched a brow. "About what?"
Sloane's hands trembled as she stepped forward. "About everything. About what's been happening." She paused, gently holding Celeste's hands in hers. "About what you've done." Her voice cracked, desperate. "I know there's been a misunderstanding. You would never do this to me, Celeste. You—"
Celeste yanked her hand away.
The sudden force made Sloane stumble slightly. She blinked, confused.
Celeste's lips twisted into a smirk, but there was something venomous behind it.
"I would and I did."
Sloane's stomach twisted.
Celeste's eyes gleamed darkly. "And so what?" she said, her voice laced with mockery. "So what if I did, Sloane?"
Sloane shook her head, taking a step back. "Celeste, this isn't you. You would never—"
"Oh, please." Celeste scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I am so tired of this. Of you. Walking around like you're better than me. Always acting like you're so righteous and innocent."
Sloane's breath hitched. "I never—"
"You did," Celeste snapped. "And I hated it. I hate you."
Sloane staggered as if she had been slapped.
The room spun.
Celeste smiled, tilting her head. "You still don't get it, do you? Ryland and I have always loved each other." She sighed dramatically. "But of course, we couldn't do anything about it. Not when you were standing in the way."
Sloane's vision blurred. "No…"
Celeste laughed sharply, almost like she was enjoying seeing Sloane this way. "Yes." She stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Ryland was never yours, Sloane. He never loved you. You were just—" she gestured vaguely "—there. A duty. An obligation."
Sloane's knees felt weak. Duty? Obligation?
"And when Ryland finally decided to leave you…" Celeste's lips curled. "That was when you announced that you were pregnant."
Celeste shook her head. "You see, those are the things you do that piss me off about you. That infuriates me. I was just about to have the love of my life. The man I've wanted and what do you do?" She sneered bitterly. "You ruined it like usual. You were just about to lose everything—the man I wanted, the life I deserved—but no. You had to snatch it back, didn't you?"
Sloane was shaking now.
Celeste leaned in, her voice was like a blade against her skin. "You are selfish, Sloane."
Sloane inhaled sharply, her vision blurring.
Celeste straightened, exhaling an almost bored sigh. "But it doesn't matter now, does it?" She smiled. "Because Ryland is mine."
Sloane's lips parted, but she had no words.
A door creaked open. Sloane's breath caught as heavy footsteps echoed through the room. And then he stepped out.
Her father.
He was dressed in his usual crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the emblem of the Beta stitched onto his chest. He looked the same, tall, powerful, and commanding. But the second his gaze landed on her, his entire expression darkened.
His eyes blazed with anger. Disgust.
Sloane's stomach twisted inexplicably.
She took a hesitant step forward. "Father, I—"
Dante's face hardened. He lifted his chin slightly, eyes moving past her as if she wasn't even there.
Then, his voice rang out, sharp and cold. "Guards."
Sloane froze.
A second later, two guards appeared at his side. Dante's jaw clenched. "Remove the intruder from my home."
Sloane's breath stopped. The words knocked the air out of her.
The guards hesitated, their brows furrowing in confusion. One of them shifted uncomfortably before speaking. "Sir, it's the Missus," he said cautiously. "Your daughter."
Dante turned to her then—really looked at her.
And the sheer disdain in his eyes made her knees go weak. "This one is no daughter of mine."