
After Son's Death, Mate's Departure
Chapter 2
I couldn't breathe. The gift box in my hands seemed to burn through my skin, its contents screaming a truth I wasn't ready to face. Fifteen years. The card read fifteen years. But Adrian and I had only been mated for ten.
My wolf snarled inside me, clawing at my consciousness. *Follow him. Find the truth.*
I didn't bother changing out of my mourning clothes. What was the point? I'd spent the day buried in grief, while my mate—my Alpha—had been planning a celebration. With another woman.
The scent trail was fresh, mingled with Adrian's familiar pine and antiseptic smell. I followed it through our territory, past the pack boundaries, and into the human city beyond. My wolf guided me, her senses sharper than my human form could ever be.
"Where are you taking me?" I whispered to her.
*To the truth,* she growled back.
The trail led me to an upscale restaurant in the heart of downtown, its windows glowing with warm light against the evening darkness. I slowed my pace, my heart hammering against my ribs as I approached.
Through the glass, I saw them.
Adrian sat across from Haven Cook, their hands intertwined on the white tablecloth. He wore the suit he'd put on this morning—the one he'd told me was for the Alpha conference. Haven was dressed in a silver dress that caught the light with every movement, her dark hair cascading down her back.
They looked... happy.
I pressed my palm against the cold glass, steadying myself as my knees threatened to buckle. My wolf whined, a sound of pure anguish that echoed through my mind.
"Happy anniversary, my love," I heard Adrian say through the window. His voice carried clearly in the quiet evening air.
Haven smiled, her eyes—the exact shade of the pendant in the gift box—sparkling with joy. "Fifteen years," she said, her fingers tracing patterns on Adrian's hand. "And finally, we can stop hiding."
Fifteen years. While I had been helping him rise to Alpha status, while I had been bearing his children and building his pack, he had been living a double life.
A waiter approached their table with a cake, setting it between them with a flourish. The words "Forever Mates" were written in elegant script across the top.
Forever Mates.
The words hit me like a physical blow. I staggered back, my vision blurring with tears.
"They're not even trying to hide it," I whispered to my wolf.
*They never intended for us to know,* she replied, her voice thick with rage and grief.
I watched as Adrian presented Haven with a small velvet box—not unlike the one I'd found in his study. She opened it with practiced ease, lifting out a delicate bracelet that Adrian fastened around her wrist.
"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing his lips to her pulse point.
Something inside me shattered completely.
---
I don't remember leaving the restaurant. I don't remember the drive back to pack territory. I only remember the cold numbness that had replaced the burning pain in my chest.
My phone buzzed as I sat in my car outside our—no, his—house. A name I hadn't seen in years flashed across the screen: Grant Morgan.
My childhood friend. The one wolf who had always seen through Adrian's façade.
"Grant," I whispered when I answered, my voice breaking.
"Cassidy." His voice was deeper than I remembered, carrying an authority I'd never heard before. "I'm coming for you."
"How did you—"
"I've been watching," he said simply. "Waiting for the right moment. It's time for the truth."
"Grant, I don't understand—"
"I'm on my way," he interrupted. "Stay where you are."
I didn't question how he knew where I was. Grant had always had a way of knowing things before they happened.
Hours passed in a blur of grief and rage. I sat in my car, watching the house that had never really been mine, waiting for Grant to arrive.
When he did, the air itself seemed to change.
He stepped out of a sleek black SUV, his tall frame silhouetted against the evening sky. But it was his aura that made my breath catch—powerful, overwhelming, unmistakably royal.
"Cassidy," he said, approaching slowly.
I stepped out of my car, my legs unsteady. "Grant? Your aura—"
"I should have told you sooner." His eyes—silver, not the blue I remembered—held mine. "I am Grant Morgan, Lycan King of the Northern Territories."
The world seemed to tilt on its axis. Grant—my childhood friend, my protector—was the legendary ruler Adrian had claimed to worship?
"Why are you here?" I whispered.
His expression softened, just for me. "Because you need the truth, Cassidy. And I'm going to help you get it."
As he stood before me, his royal presence washing over me like a protective shield, I realized that everything I thought I knew about my life had been a lie.
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