The rain poured, drowning the courtyard in a storm of water. Thunder rumbled in the distance, shaking the clouds.
And there, right in the middle of it all was Sloane.
She was curled into herself, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, her dark hair drenched and clinging to her face. Her dress was soaked, heavy with rain and mud, but she didn't seem to care. She didn't seem to notice.
From where Alexander stood, standing by the balcony, watching her intensely. He couldn't even tell if she was sobbing or just… gone.
A sudden blur of movement caught his eye. Someone rushed into the heavy rain, skirts hiked up, running as fast as she could even in the heavy rain.
"M'lady, M'lady!"
The voice was filled with panic. It belonged to one of the housemaids, Estelle. One of Sloane's most trusted attendants. One could hear the fear in her voice as she screamed.
"My lady, please, you will catch your death out here!" Estelle cried, dropping to her knees beside Sloane. Rain dripped down her face as she pulled a thick shawl from around her own shoulders, wrapping it over Sloane. "Come inside, please, my lady… this is madness!"
Sloane didn't resist. She let the maid fuss over her, let the cloth drape over her shoulders, let the gentle hands attempt to shield her from the rain.
She just… sat there.
Estelle fumbled with the umbrella, her hands shaking as she struggled to open it over Sloane's head. "Come, M'lady, please—"
Alexander exhaled, slow, his wolf clawing at him for not helping their mate. Alexander shut their connection off immediately.
The once-proud daughter of the Beta. The woman who had carried herself with fire. Now? Reduced to a shadow of herself, sitting in the rain like a lost child, needing to be rescued by a servant. All because of Ryland. She should never have to cry in the rain for a man who doesn't deserve her.
"Look how weak she's become," he muttered under his breath. This wasn't the Sloane he remembered.
A quiet cough interrupted him.
Alexander turned his head only to see his friend, Grant. The man shifted uncomfortably, his hands stuffed into his coat pockets. Unlike Alexander, he did not carry the same coldness. His expression was hesitant, almost troubled.
"She's been through a lot," Grant murmured.
Alexander exhaled, straightening up. "We all have."
Grant watched him for a second longer then scoffed lowly, "If you don't care, then why are you standing here watching her instead of walking away?"
Alexander's fingers stilled against the railing, his jaw clenched hard at Grant's words because it was true.
Then, without a word, Alexander pushed off the railing and walked away, Grant followed.
As they stepped into the office, Alexander paused, his gaze flickering around the room. Ryland had turned it into a mess.
This place wasn't the same as before when his father had ruled. Ryland ruined it.
Alexander rolled his eyes. Was this really the person Sloane wanted to be mated to? A joke.
He made his way over to the desk. The chair creaked slightly as he sat.
He exhaled sharply, gaze shifting toward the window. Rain continued to pour heavily, the courtyard now blurred by the downpour. He could just make out the distant figures of Sloane and Estelle disappearing into the house.
His fingers tapped against the wood. "Grant," he said, not bothering to look away. "What did you find?"
Grant shifted, his expression grim. "It's bad."
Alexander turned then, eyes on Grant. "How bad?"
Grant exhaled and pulled a stack of documents from inside his coat. He stepped forward and passed it to Alexander.
"Ryland is in serious debt," Grant said. "He's bled the pack dry."
Alexander didn't react at first. He reached for the topmost document, flipping it open. His eyes moved over the numbers, the signatures, the unmistakable seals of outside lenders.
His jaw ticked.
Grant continued, "He's taken out multiple loans from private sources. Some are from allied packs, but others?" He hesitated. "They're not the kind of people you want to owe."
Alexander's grip on the paper tightened.
Grant swallowed before adding, "The pack is broke."
Grant barely got the words out his lips when the door flung open, revealing Beta Dante. The man stepped in, his gaze swept over the room. "What the hell is going on in here?" His voice was tight with irritation. His eyes settled on Grant, "And why is he here?"
Alexander stood up, his hands slipped into his pockets. "Dante. It's good that you're here. I was just about to send for you."
"I'm here. What is it that you want?" Dante spat.
"As of today, you're no longer the beta of Vaeloria."
Dante froze, his face darkening with confusion. "What?… You can't just come in here and take out people as you like. I've been beta of Vaeloria for years, a decade even, and just because a stray like yourself decides to play Alpha one day doesn't give you the-"
"One more word, Dante, and I'll forget you're my mate's father and rip that vile tongue of yours out. Don't mess with me."
Dante stopped talking, glaring hard at Alexander. His gaze flickered to Grant then back to the alpha. "You think you can just strip me of my title like I'm nothing?"
"You stood by while Ryland drained this pack. You turned a blind eye to his gambling, his reckless spending, and his pathetic excuse for leadership." He flicked the documents across the desk toward Dante, the papers falling out. "This is what your silence has cost Vaeloria."
"I did nothing but follow the orders of the alpha. I have done nothing wrong here. Who do you think you are to dismiss me from my duties?" He spat out heavily.
Alexander arched an eyebrow. "The Alpha."
Dante's jaw tightened. "You haven't been recognized as the Alpha. Ryland still holds the position!"
Alexander didn't say a word, he stepped forward, his jaw clenched hard. Then, he nodded toward Dante's chest.
"The emblem." His voice was calm. "Take it off."
Dante's nostrils flared, his jaw tight.
Alexander arched a brow. "That wasn't a request."
"You'll regret this," he hissed. "I have stayed with this pack ever since your father became pack Alpha. Vaeloria needs me and you've done this today. You will regret this, Alpha Alexander." He gritted out with contempt before storming out.
As he stepped into the hall, he stopped. His eyes locked onto the figure standing just outside the door.
Sloane.
She was drenched from the rain. She'd been waiting, listening. Her wide eyes flickered between his face and where the beta's emblem used to sit.
"Father…" she began but he cut her off sharply.
"You! This is your fault! You have brought shame to my name and now my reputation has been tarnished. My title is gone and it's all because of you." He stepped closer. "You are an exact replica of your mother! A lying, manipulative, cheating whore!
Sloane froze.
Dante took a slow step forward, lowering his voice. "You stand with him, you stand against me." His gaze burned into hers. "If you choose him, Sloane, I will disown you completely. You will not bear my name any longer! "
Sloane swallowed the lump in her throat, gripping the hem of her dress tightly.
Dante glared at her one last time before he pushed past her, the force making her stumble slightly.
Slowly, she looked up. Alexander stood in the doorway. His eyes were locked onto hers, intense.
And Sloane, standing there, drenched and hollow, realizing she had just lost her father and everyone else in her life and had no idea where she stood with the man before her.
~~~~~~~
Days later…
Sloane stood in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped around herself as she took in the sight before her.
It was as if she had never existed.
The crib was gone. The rocking chair where she once imagined sitting with their child was gone. The soft pastel walls had been painted over, the color wiped clean like a mistake that had never been meant to happen. The warmth, the love, the dreams she had once poured into this space… all gone.
Her breath hitched as she looked around, her pulse racing. It was like she was in a totally different place. She wasn't sure what she had expected when she came here. Maybe some trace of the life she thought she would have, some proof that, at the very least… he had mourned too. He had mourned their child.
But there was nothing.
A sharp sound cut through the silence, the front door opening, footsteps echoing down the hall.
Sloane stiffened. Her gaze shifted towards the wall clock. It was exactly midnight. She had thought she could sneak in here and just stare. The only thing that hadn't been ripped from her was the memories of her decorating the room her pup would've had.
Of course, even that had been ripped away too.
Ryland stepped into the room, and Sloane froze. He hadn't seen her yet. He was unbuttoning his shirt, his hair slightly disheveled like he'd just returned from somewhere. He looked up and stopped dead in his tracks as his gaze landed on her.
His entire body went rigid.
"What the heck do you think you're doing here?"
Sloane's throat tightened at the sharp edge in his voice. He wasn't just angry, he was furious.
She took a hesitant step back, her fingers curling at her sides. "I—I just…" Her voice faltered as she glanced around the room again.
He followed her gaze, his jaw tightening before he scoffed. "Unbelievable."
Sloane swallowed hard. "What happened to the room?"
Ryland's eyes darkened, his shoulders squaring. "What does it look like? I got rid of that… mess."
Her chest constricted of air. "Mess?"
"That's what it was, Sloane," he said coldly. "A mistake. A distraction."
The words hit like a slap. It's been one hit after the other.
She sucked in a sharp breath. "It wasn't a mistake," she whispered. She'd taken her time to shop for everything, to arrange them all while imagining her pup running around this very same room. How could it be a mistake?
Ryland's gaze snapped back to her, something sinister flashing in his eyes. "Then why is it gone?"
Sloane took another step forward, her voice trembling. "I just—I thought you cared. Even a little. I thought—"
"You thought wrong."
He took a slow step toward her, and she instinctively backed up until she felt the wall behind her.
Ryland's lips curled in disgust. "Tell me, Sloane. Why are you here? Have you no shame? No dignity? You are with my brother now, aren't you? You cheated on me once before and tried to pass off a bastard heir as mine. Now you will go ahead to be with my own brother, Sloane." He paused, shaking his head. "You really are nothing but a whore."
"Ryland!" Sloane choked out. Did he not know? Could he not see that this was her? Sloane? The woman he was with for years? The one he was about to mate officially just days ago?
"Don't Ryland me!" He growled out, punching the wall beside her. She flinched hard, "You did this. You caused everything. You ruined it all. Now what? What exactly are you here for? To cry? To beg me to love you? Because I won't. I never did."
Her vision blurred. "I don't believe you," she forced out.
His expression hardened, and before she could react, he reached out, gripping her jaw tightly. "You don't believe me?" His voice was low. "Let me make it clear."
He shoved her back against the wall, his fingers digging into her skin roughly.
"You were the worst mistake of my life."
Sloane gasped softly, pain flashing through her—not just from his grip, but from the sheer hatred in his voice.
She had never seen him look at her like this.
Like she was nothing. Like she disgusted him.
Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Ryland's grip tightened once more before he finally let go, stepping back as if even touching her sickened him.
"I'm done with you, Sloane," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Celeste is moving in. This room? It's hers now."
"What?" She croaked out, shaking her head. "This was supposed to be our-"
"It was supposed to be nothing! That child would've been the greatest mistake of my life after you. I couldn't have been more glad to have you lose that thing in your belly."
Silence.
A deafening, all-consuming silence filled the room, wrapping around Sloane's body.
She had thought she was prepared. She had thought she could take whatever cruelty Ryland threw her way, that she had already suffered the worst of his betrayals.
But this…
This was beyond anything she could have imagined.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
Ryland stood before her, his expression colder than she had ever seen it.
He meant it. Every single word.
And the worst part?
There was no regret in his voice. No hesitation. No trace of the man she had once loved.
Sloane exhaled slowly, straightening her back.
She wouldn't cry. Not for him. Not anymore. She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze dead on, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of something in his eyes… confusion, maybe even surprise.
But she didn't care.
Not anymore.
"You're right," she finally said, her voice calm.
Ryland scoffed, but she didn't give him the chance to speak. "You were the greatest mistake of my life too."
Ryland turned away, dismissing her. "Get the heck out."
She straightened, her fingers curling into fists. The tears that had threatened to fall had now dried before they could spill over. She wasn't going to waste a single tear on Ryland or anyone. Not anymore….
Now, she would take charge and do what she should've done from the beginning….
~~~~
Sloane stepped outside, the rain pouring down around her. The storm had gotten even worse.
Her maid, Estelle, immediately rushed towards her with an umbrella. "My lady, my lady. Are you okay? You'll catch a cold. Should I-"
"Take me to Alexander's home," she cut in, her voice steady but quiet. "I want to see Alexander."
Estelle hesitated, her eyes widening. "My lady… at this hour?"
Sloane didn't waver. "Now."
Estelle nodded quickly and rushed to fetch the carriage. Sloane stood there, the rain soaking her, her body numb, not from the cold, but from everything that had just happened.
When the carriage pulled up, she climbed inside without another word.
Minutes later, Sloane stepped out, ignoring the way her dress clung to her skin as she walked straight to the door. She stopped right in front of the door and knocked.
Barely a second later, the door opened, and there stood Alexander, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked up, his gaze locking onto hers.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, his brows drew together. "Sloane?"
Her throat felt tight, her body numb from the cold and everything that had just happened. She swallowed hard, meeting his gaze.
"Help me."