Chapter 4. Lira’s Final Betrayal

Celeste’s POV

When Leon put the question to me, I told him I would think about it—but in my heart, I had already decided. My answer was a firm no. I could never share my husband, especially not with my dearest friend. I would rather walk away and never look back. And that was exactly my intention.

Today would be my last day living among the pack I had called home for so many years. Quietly, after finishing my morning tasks, I planned to gather my few belongings and slip away before anyone noticed. I had already packed my clothes into a simple satchel the night before, stowing it beneath my bed.

Even as I prepared to leave, I felt a pang of gratitude toward the pack. They had taken me in when I had nowhere else to go, raised me as one of their own. My time here had been pleasant—up until a few days ago, when everything changed. I owed them at least one final gesture of thanks: to serve them dutifully until the very end.

A faint threat of rain hung in the humid morning air. The sky was overcast, and the distant rumbles of thunder reminded me to start my journey sooner rather than later. I had no destination in mind. I would simply walk until my legs carried me somewhere new—no matter how perilous the road might be, no matter how uncertain my future. I was resolved to leave.

“Celeste.”

I turned at the sound of my name, gripping a bowl in my hand. Lira stood in the doorway. My breath caught in my throat—she hadn’t spoken to me since that tense, unforgettable night.

Without a word, she crossed the small kitchen and wrapped her arms around me in a sudden hug. I froze, surprised and unsure what to do.

When she pulled back, her expression was earnest, her voice tight with regret. “I’m sorry for everything,” she said. “I know none of this is your fault. You didn’t ask for any of it. I was foolish—stupid—to demand you reject him.” She gave a small, bitter laugh. “Will you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

Her apology sounded almost too good to be true. I set the bowl carefully in the sink, reached for my gloves, and returned her embrace. I tucked my face into the crook of her neck, feeling the rush of relief and longing I had tried so hard to suppress.

“I missed you so much,” I whispered. “I’m glad you’re not angry with me anymore.”

Our silence during those days had worn on me. There was a moment when I’d even considered refusing Leon, solely to preserve our friendship. But with my fragile health, I knew the pain of rejection would be unbearable for me—and likely for him, too. So I had shut that thought away before it could bloom.

Now that she’d forgiven me, I felt torn all over again. In truth, Lira’s contrition made me want to go all the more. If I couldn’t risk Leon—and couldn’t bear the possibility of either of them suffering—perhaps my absence was the only way to bring them both peace.

“Come with me,” Lira said, taking my hand and tugging me out of the kitchen. “I have something for you.”

We stepped into the crisp air of the surrounding meadow. Lira carefully guided me so that I stumbled onto a spread of white cloth laid out atop the grass. On the cloth sat bowls of fruit, bread, cheeses, and honey- glazed pastries. The collection of food shimmered like a promise under the clouded sky.

“A picnic!” I exclaimed, my heart warming at the sight. It was the perfect farewell, I thought—something bright and simple to mark my departure.

Lira beamed at me, her eyes soft. I settled cross-legged on the blanket and lifted a pastry toward my lips. But as I brightened to take a bite, the world shifted unsteadily around me. My head began to throb, and my vision blurred at the edges. The colors of the sky and grass smeared together as though viewed through water.

Through the haze, I noticed that Lira had not touched any of the food she had prepared. She stood over me, calm and observant—nothing like the carefree friend I knew. It struck me as odd, even as the pain in my skull swelled.

“What’s happening?” I forced the words out, each syllable a struggle as I clutched my temples.

Lira laughed then, softly and cruelly. “Oh, Celeste,” she said. “How naive are you, really? You actually believed you could end this by simply running away?”

I blinked, trying to steady my breathing. How could she know my plans? My entire body felt as if it were dissolving into the grass beneath me. Whatever was in that food had already begun shutting down my senses.

She leaned closer, her breath soft against my ear. “I can’t imagine spending every day in fear—wondering if you’ll come back. We can’t have that, can we?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Not when I’ve worked so hard to fix things.”

A cold realization snaked through me: Lira was behind this. But why would she drug me—her oldest friend—to keep me from leaving?

I tried to push myself up, but my arms gave out. “What…what are you doing to me?” I managed, my voice thick with dread.

She brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, her eyes glittering. “It’s a surprise,” she said, and the corners of her mouth curved into a smile. “But don’t be afraid. I think you’re going to…enjoy it.”

***

Darkness was the first thing I registered when I woke. I felt a strong arm draped across my waist and sensed a male presence just behind me. Panic seized me. I bolted upright, only to topple off what felt like a bed. I hit the floor with a heavy thud.

A low growl rumbled from somewhere above me. Leon’s unmistakable scent filled my nostrils. How on earth had I ended up in his bed? My head pounded, fragments of the picnic flooded back in jagged impressions: the sunlight, the laughter, Lira’s warning.

Leon sat up at the side of the bed, yawning and stretching, until his gaze landed on me. He froze, eyes wide with shock. I lay naked on the cold floorboards, disoriented. He was naked, too, and just as confused.

“Celeste?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and worry. “What’s going on?”

I scrambled to my feet, swaying. My clothes were strewn across the room in a messy pile. I darted toward them, pulling on my tunic and leggings. My muscles trembled as I bent to tie my boots.

As I rose, something caught my eye on the edge of the bed—a dark stain spreading across the sheets. My heart sank, and a hot sear of pain pulsed in my lower body. Memories clicked into place: Lira’s promise of a surprise I would like. The realization hit me in a cold wave: she had drugged me, manipulated us both, to force this moment.

No sooner had the thought solidified than the door burst open. Lira strode in, escorting Alpha Thoren behind her. Her lips curved in a triumphant smile, but the Alpha’s stern gaze bore into me with disapproval.

My mind raced. Nothing made sense anymore. I opened my mouth to speak, but Lira beat me to it.

“See, I was right, Alpha,” she said, her voice sweet as poison. “Celeste drugged Leon and forced him to mate with her in order to become Luna.”

The accusation hung in the air like a guillotine’s blade. I stood frozen, the truth of Lira’s betrayal sharp in my bones—and the world narrowed to the consequences of that single, irrevocable night.