Solane thought that it was a cosmic joke.
The names in her file mocked her.
Damon Blackthorn, Alpha of Blackthorn Corporation
Lyra Smith, Omega, Actress
Caleb Blackthorn, his son.
All checked into A VIP suite after a crash.
This should be a mistake, there was no chance…
Solane’s wolf whimpered. The betrayal was hard, and her intern gushing outside her cabin was not helping at all.
“Did you just see, Damon Blackthorn is here with Lyra Smith?”
“Aww I heard they are childhood sweethearts.”
Her intern whispered, starry-eyed, “The Alpha refused discharge just to stay by her side. They say she’s his first love. He waited six years for her. Like a tragic romance drama.”
Every breath felt like a task to her. Maybe it was all a coincidence, and the people are nothing more than similar names.
Yes. This was what it was.
But the moment she reached the private suite and heard the voices inside, her world shattered.
Her blood froze , chest ached, as if her heart was wretched out of her chest. Their words were like watching her wolf being torn apart. The pain was surreal.
“Aunt Lyra, this photo looks so good. I want to hang it in our penthouse.” Caleb’s young voice travelled to her.
“Of course, you can sweetheart,” Lyra said, her soft words felt like salt to her wounds.
“Let her rest, Caleb.” Damon’s calm voice washed over her.
“No Damon, it’s alright. You know how much I love Caleb. He is my little ray of sunshine.” Her voice was soft.
The file said Damon bore only scratches. Caleb had a bruised arm. Lyra, however, had a crack in her bone. No reason to book a whole suite for her, but he did that nonetheless. For what?
Sloane had smiled bitterly at that. Six years she’d stood at his side, not as Luna, not even as wife in name, just the convenient woman who cooked, cleaned, and kept his heir alive while he pined for another.
And for what? So that he can obsess over Omega sprawled in that bed.
Can she even be called a mate, when he never publicly acknowledged her?
She pressed her back to the wall, listening.
“You’re the best. I wish you were my mom.” Caleb said.
Lyra murmured sweetly, “We can’t do that? Can we?”
Damon, calm and unreadable, replied, “He’s just a pup. He says what he thinks.”
The words sliced through Sloane like silver.
By the time she pushed open the door, she was no longer the Luna, the mate, who hoped. She was the doctor.
The scene mocked her. Caleb clutching a photo, Lyra reclining against Damon’s chest, their tableau glowing like the real pack while Sloane stood as the intruder.
It felt like she was the one intruding into their intimate time.
“Miss Lyra, there’s a small crack in the bone of your hand. It’s not as severe as a full fracture, but it will still need time and care. A cast will help it heal properly.” She uttered the words with utmost professionalism.
Damon’s jaw tightened, his voice sharp, almost a growl. “Solane, what are you doing?.”
Solane straightened, her professionalism unshaken.
“Mr. Blackthorn, as Miss Lyra’s attending doctor, it’s my duty to see to her care. And right now, that means ensuring she gets the treatment she needs.”
Damon’s gaze was flint. “I’ll request another. I don’t have enough faith in your skills. You were always busy cooking and cleaning. Goddess knows how much you know. I can’t take any risks.”
Memories surfaced.
That day she had returned from a ten-hour surgery, exhausted and grieving a lost patient, but still she took time to cook for Caleb.
Sloane’s painstaking meals were spat out and her son declared with fury, “Mom, your food tastes worse than dog chow.”
While Lyra’s takeout meal was praised by her own blood.
All these efforts only to be told by her own family she wasn’t enough.
Her Aura flared, making that weak omega whimper in terror.
Lyra, always with the crocodile tears. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble. Forgive me.” Making her a villain in her own son’s eyes.
Sloane’s heart had been freezing over for years. Tonight, it turned to stone.
“As you wish Mr. Blackthorn,” she said coolly. “File the transfer request quickly. Otherwise, I’ll write your discharge orders myself.”
Her composure unsettled Damon, but she didn’t give him time to recover. She glanced at her watch. “And one more thing, I finish at eight thirty. Be home by then. We need to talk.”
“Depends,” he said, eyes narrowed at her calmness..
“No issues. I’ll wait until ten,” she repeated, then left.
Behind her, Lyra’s soft voice coiled around Damon’s ear. “I didn’t mean to make things difficult for both of you. I am really sorry, please go to her. A luna needs her Alpha.”
“Don’t bother,” he said with dismissive certainty. “She’ll be over it by tomorrow.”
But the times had changed. Slone was no longer a fool, the moon goddess had blessed her, and nobody in this world could make her change her decision now.
She had married Damon to appease fate when his wolf was cursed to a lifetime of blindness. She became his anchor. She thought she was what he needed at that moment. When he healed, she should have walked away. Instead, she’d birthed his heir, endured his ignorance, wrath and hoped for love that never came.
No longer.
This house reeks of loneliness, abuse she has suffered over the past six years. Longing for the things Damon could never provide. He never had any intention to do anything like that.
A bitter smile curled up her face, thinking how Caleb was the exact replica of his father. Apple has not fallen far from the tree.
They both love Lyra and hate her.
She was waiting in the living room for Damon, but today was no different. He never came.
“My decision is correct. Goodbye hell.” she whispered as she stood up.
She left the Mate Rejection Agreement on the marble dining table. At ten sharp, she wheeled her suitcase out, silent as moonlight.
Damon was Alpha, but he was no longer hers. He could have the omega and his spawn. For all she cares.
By the time Alpha Blackthorne returned at dawn with his mistress and son, drunk on laughter, they didn’t even notice the Luna was gone.