Chapter Four – Zara's POV
The Betrayal
Pain still pulsed through my body, my mind struggling to process the horror of Cora's confession. My sister—the one I had trusted, the one I had loved—had killed our mother.
And now, as I looked up, I saw him standing close to her.
James.
He stepped toward Cora, his movements sharp, deliberate. His dark eyes didn't even flicker in my direction.
Instead, he reached for her.
"Are you hurt?" His voice was gentle, warm.
I froze.
He ran his hands along Cora's arms, scanning her for injuries with careful precision. He wasn't looking at me.
He wasn't even acknowledging my existence.
As if I wasn't even there.
A sharp, cold feeling stabbed through my chest—worse than the pain from the whip, worse than the betrayal that still lingered between me and my sister.
James has always been my strength. My hope in the darkness, my shield.
He had been my mate.
Hadn't he?
I swallowed hard, struggling to make sense of what I was seeing.
Then, he turned.
His piercing gaze finally landed on me—but it wasn't filled with the warmth I had expected, the longing I had once seen in them.
There was no kindness.
No love.
Just cold, sharp indifference.
And then—
He moved.
His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword.
In one smooth motion, he unsheathed it, the blade glinting under the dim torchlight.
And he pointed it straight at me.
I stared at the weapon, my breath catching in my throat.
"What…?" My voice came out weak, barely a whisper.
James didn't blink. Didn't hesitate.
"Stand up," he commanded.
I felt frozen, my body refusing to move. My heart pounded so loudly in my ears that I barely registered the words.
This—this wasn't right.
James would never threaten me.
James was mine.
I forced my lips to move. "James…" My voice trembled.
He let out a low chuckle.
It wasn't the laugh I knew. It wasn't the laugh I love to listen to way back.
It was cruel. Mocking. Evil.
I flinched as he closed the distance between us, grabbing a fistful of my torn dress and yanking me to my feet. Pain jolted through my body, my legs trembling under my weight.
His grip was tight.
Unyielding.
He wasn't holding me like a mate would.
He was holding me like an enemy.
I looked up at him, desperate for answers. "What are you doing?" I whispered.
His lips curled into a smirk, but there was no warmth behind it.
"What am I doing?" he repeated, his voice dripping with amusement. "I'm finally stopping this pathetic act."
A chill ran through me. Pathetic act? What does he mean?.
I shook my head. "I don't understand."
His grip tightened.
"You're useless, Zara," he said, his voice sharp as a blade. "I can't believe I wasted so much time on you."
Something inside me cracked.
I stared at him, my chest tightening. "James… what are you saying?"
He exhaled slowly, as if I was an annoyance. "We were never mates."
The words hit me harder than any whip ever could.
I staggered back, barely able to stay on my feet. "That's not true," I whispered. "The bond—"
James threw his head back and laughed.
I flinched.
"You're a fool," he said, shaking his head. "You've always doubted yourself, haven't you? You've never even known what a real bond feels like."
I swallowed hard, my hands trembling. "But—"
Then, he turned.
Reaching for Cora.
And right in front of me, he pulled her close.
My stomach twisted violently as I watched him wrap his arm around her waist, holding her like she belonged to him.
Cora smirked, resting her head against his shoulder.
James looked back at me, his smirk widening.
"This—" he gestured between himself and Cora "—this is a real bond."
I couldn't breathe.
No.
No, it wasn't possible.
James was mine.
I had felt it.
Every stolen glance. Every touch. Every whispered word.
It had meant something.
Hadn't it?
But then—like a tidal wave crashing into me—it hit.
Memories surfaced, ones I had ignored, ones I had refused to acknowledge in my desperation to belong.
James had never confirmed it.
He had never once said the words You are my mate.
I had assumed.
I had wanted it to be true.
And now, I knew the truth.
I wasn't his mate.
Cora was.
She had been his mate all along.
And I had been a fool.
Tears blurred my vision. I shook my head, my chest aching. "You—" My voice broke. "You lied to me."
James sighed, almost bored.
"Think of it this way," he said. "You were convenient. Weak. Easy to manipulate. I needed you to believe we were mates so you wouldn't run. So you'd trust me."
I felt sick.
Every moment. Every whispered word. Every stolen glance—
It had all been a lie.
James had never been mine.
I had never belonged anywhere.
Cora chuckled, tilting her head. "You should see your face," she mused. "Did you really think you could have everything?"
I couldn't speak.
I couldn't breathe.
James smirked. "Face it, Zara. You were always just a pawn."
A pawn.
Nothing more.
My hands trembled, my nails digging into my palms.
But the worst part wasn't even the betrayal.
The worst part was that some small, broken part of me still wanted him to be lying.
But the way he looked at Cora—the way his hand tightened around her waist—
There was no faking that.
She was his.
And I was nothing.
A broken sob tore from my throat.
James chuckled. "That's right," he murmured. "Cry. That's all you were ever good for."
I lifted my gaze, locking eyes with him one last time.
And for the first time, I felt nothing.
No love.
No longing.
No pain.
Just a hollow, empty silence where my heart used to be.
I inhaled shakily, my voice barely above a whisper.
"…James."
And just like that—
The last piece of me shattered.