(Azaria's Point of View)
"Just about three years now," Stephanie whispered, her voice barely audible as the weight of her confession settled heavily in the room. The moment she finished her sentence, the stack of forms slipped from her trembling hands, scattering across the floor. She stood there, frozen, eyes wide with shock as the reality of what she had just admitted hung in the air between us.
I hadn't expected this confession. Over the last few days, she had picked up the rhythm of our daily tasks quickly. She understood the basics of my duties, though it was clear she lacked the strategic mindset necessary to lead. And yet, despite myself, I had begun to enjoy her company. The conversations had become more personal, a cautious camaraderie forming between us that I hadn't expected. But now, everything was tainted by the truth she had just confessed, a truth that twisted something inside me.
I sat behind my desk, pretending to be engrossed in signing some documents. "Oh," I replied nonchalantly, keeping my voice calm and steady, though my mind raced with a thousand thoughts. I glanced up briefly, watching as she bent down to gather the scattered papers, her hands still shaking. The sight of her vulnerability struck a chord in me, but I pushed it aside. I had to remain focused.
"And who approached whom?" I asked, my tone casual, but the tension in the room was palpable. I wasn't just asking out of curiosity—I needed to know how deeply Ethan had manipulated her.
Stephanie looked up, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "H-he suggested that I help you with your Luna duties," she stammered. "He told me you were overworked, that you were too focused on the pack and not enough on him. He said I could make things easier for you. At first, I thought I was helping both of you... but then it changed. It wasn't just about helping anymore."
Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure. "He told me you weren't… giving him what he needed. He said an Alpha needed release daily, that it was part of his duty to stay strong for the pack." She glanced down at the floor, shame coloring her features. "At first, it was just... things that felt harmless. I thought it would stop there. But it didn't."
I kept my gaze steady, though every word made my stomach twist tighter. "And did you feel like you had a choice?" I asked softly, watching her carefully.
Stephanie looked up, her eyes swimming with guilt. "Yes," she whispered, almost too quietly to hear. "He never forced me... but he made me feel like I owed him. He made it seem like I was doing the right thing, that I was helping keep the pack strong. I... I believed him."
I exhaled slowly, trying to quell the anger bubbling up inside me. "And how did things escalate between you two?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.
She hesitated, her face flushed with embarrassment. "It started with him asking for favors. Small things, at first. I thought it was harmless... but it wasn't." Her voice trembled as she continued. "He pushed for more. A few days ago... he wanted it to go further."
My stomach clenched, and for a moment, I couldn't speak. Ethan, the man I had trusted with everything, had not only betrayed me but twisted this woman into his personal pawn. But this wasn't just about his infidelity—it was about how he used his power to manipulate those around him, making them believe they were complicit when in reality, they were victims of his narcissistic games.
I sighed heavily, forcing myself to maintain control over my emotions. "I promise you, I don't hold you responsible for this. Ethan… he knows how to get inside people's heads, how to twist things to his advantage." I leaned forward slightly, my voice steady but laced with bitterness. "He's done it before. To me. To others."
Stephanie blinked, her confusion deepening. "I… I don't understand. He said you didn't care about him, that you were always too busy for him."
I scoffed softly, though there was no humor in it. "He's a master manipulator, Stephanie. I've been married to him for years, and even I didn't see how far he would go." My eyes locked onto hers, and I let my words sink in. "For the record, I shared a bed with him every night until recently. I started feeling him pulling away—through our bond—and now I fully know why."
Stephanie paled, her hand flying to her mouth as the truth dawned on her. "You… you could feel it? Oh, Goddess…" Her voice trailed off as the gravity of what she'd been a part of hit her. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she collapsed into the chair across from me, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
Despite everything, my heart ached for her. She had been manipulated, just like me. And as much as I hated what had happened, I couldn't bring myself to hate her. Instead, I felt a strange sense of responsibility for her. Nyrie, my wolf, had already whispered the word mate in my mind several times, but I had refused to fully acknowledge it. Now, seeing her so broken, I began to understand the deeper connection that was pulling at me.
Without thinking, I stood and walked around the desk, gently pulling Stephanie into my arms. She stiffened at first, but then she collapsed against me, her sobs wracking her body. I held her, feeling the weight of everything we had both been through. She wasn't just some girl who had been caught in Ethan's web—she was someone who had been hurt, used, and discarded.
As her sobs subsided, she grew tense again, suddenly aware of our proximity. She pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. I offered her a half-hearted smile, though inside, I felt a strange disappointment at the loss of contact.
"Stephanie," I began softly, watching her closely. "I need you to be honest with me from now on. Not just about Ethan, but about everything. We can't move forward unless I know what I'm dealing with."
She nodded slowly, but I could see the hesitation in her eyes. She was conflicted, torn between her loyalty to Ethan and the strange bond she felt toward me. "I… I don't know what to say," she admitted. "I never wanted this. I thought I was doing the right thing, but now… I don't know what's right anymore."
I reached out, taking her hand in mine. The tingles spread up my arm, a familiar sensation I was beginning to associate with her. "Stephanie, you don't have to let him control you anymore. You have a choice now. You can stand with me, or you can keep letting him pull your strings."
Her eyes searched mine, fear and uncertainty clouding her expression. "I don't know if I'm strong enough," she whispered. "He's been… everything. For three years, I've built my life around him."
"You're stronger than you think," I said firmly, squeezing her hand. "You've survived this long, haven't you? You've faced things that would break most people. Don't sell yourself short."
She gave me a small, tentative smile, but I could still see the doubt lingering in her eyes. "I'll try," she said softly. "But I don't want to make any more mistakes."
I nodded, understanding her hesitation. "You won't be alone. I'll help you through this. But I need to know you're with me, Stephanie. I need to know I can trust you."
She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I'm with you," she finally whispered. "But… I don't know if I can let go of him. Not yet."
I sighed inwardly but nodded. It was a start. She wasn't fully committed, but at least she wasn't against me. "That's all I need for now," I said softly. "We'll take it one step at a time."
(Stephanie's Point of View)
As I sat in front of Azaria, my heart raced. How did we end up here? How did I end up in a position where my entire existence seemed to teeter on the edge of unraveling? Three years. For three years, I had been Ethan's secret, his solace, the one he came to in the dark of the night. But it seems that might have been sweet nothings whispered to soothe a naïve soul.
But how could I not believe him? His words, his presence—it had all felt so real. He made me feel important, needed in ways I hadn't experienced before. And I believed I was helping him, helping the pack. That was my justification.
I told myself it wasn't wrong, that it was necessary, that he was the Alpha and had his needs. But now, sitting here in front of Azaria, my heart throbbed with guilt. I'd spent so long building a life around Ethan, that the sudden realization of his lies felt like being hit by a wall. But there was something else—something that pulled at me whenever I was near Azaria. Her touch, her voice, even her scent—it stirred something deep inside me, something I couldn't explain.
What was it about her? Why did I feel this connection that seemed to grow stronger with every passing moment? It was confusing, overwhelming. I shook my head, pushing those thoughts away. I had been with Ethan for two years—I couldn't betray that, even if something within me wanted to reach out to Azaria.
. I felt a pang of something unfamiliar in my chest as I met her gaze, and for a moment, I wondered what the future would hold—what we would become.
(Azaria's Point of View)
Later that evening, I was preparing for bed when Ethan barged into the room. His face was set in a familiar scowl, and the tension in the air thickened with his presence.
"Why do you need an aide? Why do you need her?" Ethan's voice cracked like a whip, sharp and accusatory. His eyes blazed with fury as he glared at me, his frustration palpable. "You're perfectly capable of handling everything yourself!"
I leaned back in my chair, unfazed by his outburst, a slow smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. His temper tantrums had long since lost their sting. "Oh, I do manage quite well, don't I?" I replied lazily, as though I hadn't heard the bitterness in his voice. "But I like having Stephanie around. She's quick, attentive. Might even make an okay Luna someday, don't you think?"
His face darkened, his hands balling into fists. "Luna? Are you out of your mind? This isn't some game, Azaria. She's just a—"
"A what?" I interrupted, my tone light, teasing. "A maid? You seemed to think she was good enough for… other things." I raised an eyebrow, watching his reaction as I played with the truth hanging between us.
He recoiled, clearly not expecting me to turn the conversation that way. His eyes flashed with something close to panic before he quickly masked it with anger. "You think this is funny?" he hissed, stepping closer, his voice lowering dangerously "You may act like this is all a joke, but I control you, Azaria. The bond—it makes sure you can't escape me. You feel me even when you don't want to, just like you always have. I'm in your head, and you'll never get rid of me, no matter how hard you try." His words were venomous, dripping with the weight of his accusation.
"Oh, I feel something, alright," I said, laughing softly under my breath. "But it's not what you think." I met his gaze, refusing to back down. "You think I don't know, Ethan? All the ways you try to twist things? The manipulation, the lies—it's like a constant weight pressing down on me, digging in. I may not have a choice in feeling you, but don't act like you're the victim here."
His jaw clenched, fury radiating off him. "You think you're so clever, don't you? But I've had enough of your nonsense. You've been too focused on your precious duties as Luna to be a real wife to me. While you play your little power games, I had no choice but to find comfort elsewhere."
"Comfort?" I laughed, the sound ringing through the room, amused by how easily he tried to flip the narrative. "If that's what you call it." My gaze flicked to the door again. "Then again, Stephanie is very comforting, isn't she?"
He sneered. "You should've taken me seriously from the start. This bond isn't a joke, and neither is she. She's the one who's there for me now, not you."
I leaned forward slightly, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Oh, I take everything seriously, Ethan. Especially when it comes to your little… diversions." My smile widened, a slow, deliberate expression. "And Stephanie? She's quite capable. She catches on quickly." I paused, enjoying the brief flicker of insecurity in his eyes. "And who know, after divorcing me, you might find she's the perfect luna you've been looking for all along."
Ethan's face twisted in rage, his hands trembling. "You're pathetic," he spat, his voice shaking. "You think you're in control, but you're nothing more than a cold, bitter shell of a woman. No wonder you have to rely on her for everything. You're not enough for anyone."
I couldn't help it—I giggled, an airy, light sound that seemed to drive him over the edge. His face reddened as he turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door so hard behind him that the walls shook.
The moment he was gone, the laughter drained from me. My body tensed as pain, sharp and unrelenting, coursed through me. I gasped, gripping the edge of the table as I tried to breathe through the agony. It was happening again—my mate bond with Ethan pulling at me, tearing at me.
But it wasn't just him.
The connection I had with Stephanie flared to life, burning through me like fire. It was different from my bond with Ethan, more raw, more intense. I could feel them together, their bodies entwined, and the betrayal clawed at me, twisting the knife that had already been lodged deep.
The room blurred around me as the pain grew unbearable. My legs gave out, and before I knew it, I was crumpling to the floor, my vision dimming as darkness took over.