SERRA
The evening was draped in uneasy silence as I stood in the middle of my messed-up attempt at preparing dinner. The smell of spilled soup lingered in the air, reminding me of my latest cooking disaster. My hands shook as I looked at the chaos, knowing someone would definitely yell at me in seconds.
A sharp voice cut through the air, "Look at this mess!" Maya, my mother-in-law, gave me a disapproving look, clearly not impressed. The pot, now broken on the floor, felt like a reflection of how scattered I felt inside.
I looked down, trying to avoid the upcoming criticism. In my head, I went back over the steps that led to this mess. Earlier, as I carried the pot of soup to the table, the kitchen door slammed open, and my mother-in-law barged in. We bumped into each other, and the pot crashed to the floor. I stepped back, trying to apologize, but she cut me off with her anger.
"Are you trying to burn me with that hot soup?" she snapped, her eyes furious.
"It was an accident," I mumbled, barely audible. "I'm really sorry." My weak apology only earned me more scorn.
She let out a cold laugh, a harsh sound that cut through the room. "Accident? Serra, you're always causing trouble and making excuses."
I bit my lip, determined not to let her get to me, but her mocking hurt. Each insult felt like a stab in my already bruised spirit.
"You're as useless as a broken tool," she went on, circling me like a hawk eyeing its target. "I should've stopped the wedding when I had the chance."
Her words felt like a constant attack, wearing down my determination. I could feel the weight of her disapproval, suffocating me and making it hard to breathe.
"I should've known better than to let my son marry someone like you," she spat, her voice full of anger. "You're just a burden to this pack."
Her words sliced through the air, leaving behind bitterness that hung in the room. Being labeled a burden was nothing new, but it still hurt. I had gotten used to the constant criticism, but each insult stung, reminding me of my supposed shortcomings.
"That's enough," she declared, her tone sharp as a blade. "I can't stand to watch you mess everything up. Aaron deserves a Luna who can actually contribute, not someone like you."
I shook, her words weighing heavily on my chest. "Just divorce him," she demanded, the ultimatum lingering. "It's the only decent thing you can do for him."
I shook my head, speaking softly. "No, I love him." Yes, I loved Aaron, and I was determined not to let anything tear us apart, no matter what happened.
Her laughter, all icy and heartless, echoed through the room. "Love? You can't do anything right. Just leave him and spare him the misery of being stuck with a failure like you."
With that, she stormed out, leaving me alone in the mess I made. As I started cleaning up, my mind kept replaying the moments that led me to this point. It all started three years ago when our eyes met for the first time. I married Aaron, the Alpha of Blackwood as chosen mates. The marriage was orchestrated by tradition, but deep down, I truly cared about my husband.
But from day one, they treated me like an outsider. I wasn't a Luna; I was just a hated maid, dealing with daily humiliations from my mother-in-law. Facing those mean glares and hurtful comments, I held on to the belief that love could get through the toughest times.
After finishing the tough job of cleaning, I dragged myself back to our room, the only place in this pack territory that gave me a bit of comfort. My heart raced as I pushed open the door, hoping to find comfort in Aaron's arms. But what I walked into shattered the fragile dreams I had.
There, on our bed, Aaron was tangled up with Violet, the Beta's daughter. Shock held me in its grip, disbelief making it hard to move. "Aaron," I whispered, the pain of betrayal heavy in the air. He looked at me, no remorse or regret in his eyes—just a cold gaze.
Unable to bear his haunting gaze any longer, I turned my attention to Violet. She lay there, a smile playing on her lips as she observed me. There was no remorse in her eyes, no shock at being caught in the act. Instead, her gaze held a chilling confidence, as if she had expected me to witness the scene.
She was lying there, a smirk playing on her lips as she watched me. There was no remorse in her eyes, no surprise at being caught. Instead, her gaze held a chilling confidence, as if she had anticipated me witnessing the scene.
Violet, the Beta's daughter, meant more than just a name to me. I had often noticed her lingering around Aaron, her flirtatious glances and subtle touches stirring an unsettling discomfort within me. As the Beta's daughter, she held a certain influence, and her behavior had never sat well with me.
My hands trembled as I clenched and unclenched them, wrestling with the storm of emotions inside me. The air felt heavy, thick with the tension of betrayal. I wanted to scream, to release the pain clawing at my insides, but the words remained trapped, choked by the overwhelming weight of the moment.
"How could you do this to me?" I asked, my voice shaking with a mix of hurt and anger. Aaron's response lacked any sympathy; he seemed immune to the pain on my face. In that moment, the love I thought could withstand anything crumbled like delicate petals in the wind.
"You're not worthy to be the Luna," he spat, each word like a venomous arrow piercing my wounded heart. Aaron added insult to injury, mocking, "You can't even give me an heir, and you're wolfless. It's all just a waste of time."
As his harsh words filled the room, I couldn't help but think about my own flaws. I knew my wolf had stayed hidden, a part that made me feel not good enough and gave ammunition to those who were looking for reasons to hate me. The realization hit me hard, cutting through the betrayal. I didn't need anyone, especially not Aaron as my Alpha, to keep reminding me of my supposed flaws.
Amidst his harsh words, I couldn't hold back the plea that escaped my lips. "But Aaron, I love you so much. Can't that mean something?"
He chuckled, a cold and heartless sound that echoed in the room. "Your love means nothing, Serra. This marriage was a mistake, a pathetic attempt at something that was never meant to be."
As he chuckled, a wave of disbelief and anguish washed over me. I couldn't fathom that the love I had poured into our relationship meant nothing to him, that our marriage was dismissed as a mistake. Tears welled up, blurring my vision as I stumbled back. Just when I thought Aaron couldn't say anything to crush me more, he proved me wrong.
"I, Alpha Aaron of the Blackwood Pack, reject you, Serra," he said, his voice powerful enough to crush my world. The weight of his words hung in the air, each one hitting me like a heavy blow to the love I thought was unbreakable.
Time seemed to stand still as the reality of his rejection sank in. The air felt heavy, mirroring the pain in my heart. In that moment, my breath caught, and the world around me blurred. His rejection echoed in my ears like a haunting repeat. The pain, both emotional and physical, radiated through my body, leaving me momentarily paralyzed.
When Aaron spoke again, his voice cut through the heavy silence. "Leave and don't show your face to me again. If you don't follow my order, you'll regret it," he commanded, each word carrying authority. His eyes, filled with determination, locked onto mine, leaving no room for negotiation.
The tears I had been desperately holding back finally broke free, streaming down my cheeks as a silent testament to the pain in my heart. The pain in my chest was numbing and agonizing, a deep, gut-wrenching pain that threatened to overwhelm me. His rejection weighed me down, an invisible force that left me powerless.
Through my despair, I managed to speak words filled with bitterness. "You're really cruel, Alpha Aaron." But Aaron's expression stayed indifferent, like a stoic mask hiding the emotions within him. It was as if my pain meant nothing, just a small part of his desires.
I looked at Violet, who smirked and waved dismissively as she got up from the bed where our vows had been broken. The realization hit me hard–a harsh reminder of how easily I could be replaced, thrown away like a broken toy.