Chapter 1 A Means to an End
Sophia Tucker's POV
"Darling, your Luna, Sophia Tucker, still has no idea, does she?"
The woman's voice was honeyed and sharp, slipping through the narrow gap of his half-closed office door and straight into my ears.
"Crimson Moon Pack, everything her father is so proud of, will soon be yours."
I froze outside the door.
The scent of warm apple pie still clung to my fingertips — the one I baked to celebrate our fifth mating anniversary. Now that sweetness curdled in my stomach, mixing with a wave of nausea that clawed its way up my throat.
Worse, a searing burn flared from the Mark on the back of my neck, racing down my spine until it set every nerve on fire.
Through the gap, my Alpha — my mate, Bennett Lightwood — had my best friend, Clara Johnson, bent over his massive oak desk.
His white robe from the dressing room hung loosely on Clara's shoulders, slipping to reveal long stretches of bare, glowing skin.
Bennett's hands roamed her body with shameless hunger. Clara's breath came in soft, broken moans.
Her eyes were half-lidded, her head tilted back in invitation, offering him her throat. He marked her pale skin with his mouth, his hips driving into her with a brutal urgency.
"Crimson Moon Pack should have had a new Alpha long ago."
Bennett's voice rumbled against her chest, heavy with ambition.
He wound his fingers through her loose golden hair, then lowered his mouth to her breast, kissing her as if nothing else existed.
"You understand me better than she ever did," he said, his eyes dark with unrestrained desire.
Clara laughed softly, curling her arms around his shoulders, pressing herself into his mouth. "And how is Sophia in bed?" she purred.
Bennett lingered on her for a long, indulgent moment before lifting his head. The look he gave her was one I had never seen — blazing, almost worshipful.
"Sophia?" He let out a short, cold laugh. "She was convenient. Nothing more. Her usefulness has run its course."
His fingers traced Clara's cheek as he bent to take her nipple into his mouth again. "For five years, I endured the bond of that Mark with her."
He added, "Do you know what it feels like? To have the one you truly want right in front of you, and be forced to hold another woman who makes your skin crawl?"
The world inside my head detonated into white noise.
Five years.
From the days when we were young and unsure, to him rising as a powerful Alpha and me standing at his side as Luna — all of it had been a carefully crafted lie.
Clara's gaze slid over Bennett's shoulder, locking onto me through the crack in the door. She saw me. And she smiled — slow, deliberate, victorious.
She wrapped her arms tighter around Bennett's neck, letting out a throaty sigh. "Looks like we have an audience," she said, her voice pitched just loud enough for me to hear every word.
The movement inside the office stopped.
Bennett's head snapped around, his sharp eyes finding me instantly through the door. There was no surprise in them, no guilt. Only irritation at being interrupted — and something far colder.
My blood turned to ice. My hand trembled on the doorknob, slick with sweat.
The next thing I knew, the phone slipped from my fingers and hit the floor with a sharp crack.
He grabbed a towel, wrapped it around his waist, and yanked the door open.
I stood there in the harsh light, exposed, clutching the ridiculous apple pie like it could shield me from the truth, my soul splintering under the weight of betrayal.
Inside, Clara adjusted the robe with slow, taunting precision, her gaze sweeping over me like I was something beneath her notice. Her lips curled.
"Oh, Sophia, perfect timing," she said, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. "We made a mess in here. You can clean it up for us, can't you?"
Bennett didn't stop her. He didn't even flinch.
"Why?" My voice came out dry, cracked.
His face was blank, his tone flat. "Your worth began and ended with being the daughter of Crimson Moon Pack's Alpha. Now that your father refuses to give up that land, you're worthless."
"And," he added, stepping closer, towering over me, "I never loved you. Every time I touched you, I wanted to vomit."
Clara slid down from the desk, bare feet whispering against the floor as she crossed to his side, looping her arm possessively through his.
"You hear that, Sophia? You make him sick. From the very beginning, he wanted me," she said, chin tilted high. "You were just a stand-in. A stupid, self-important stand-in."
Each word cut deeper than the last.
I turned and ran, blind with panic.
The only thought in my head was to get home.
Back to Crimson Moon Pack. Back to my father.
But when I broke through the edge of the forest, it wasn't home that greeted me.
It was fire.
Flames roared into the night sky, painting it blood-red.
My home. My pack. Burning.
Screams tore through the night, only to be swallowed by the crack and roar of the blaze.
Blackwood Pack warriors moved like shadows through the inferno, cutting down my people without mercy.
My eyes locked on the highest watchtower.
My father stood at the edge, his back straight as steel. He was shouting something into the firestorm, but the wind and flames devoured his voice.
A deafening explosion erupted at the tower's base. The blast ripped through its supports.
The tower began to tilt, slow at first, then faster, groaning as it fell.
My father lost his footing, his body tipping backward.
The structure collapsed in a thunderous crash, and he vanished into the heart of the fire.
"No!"
The scream tore itself from my throat.
I ran toward the flames, reckless, desperate.
Footsteps thundered behind me. I glanced back — Blackwood warriors were closing in.
A sudden, crushing pain bloomed in my chest.
I looked down.
Blood spread fast across the white of my dress.
A silver bullet.
Made to kill wolves.
I turned my head slowly. A pistol still smoked in the hand that held it.
And a voice, cold and final, cut through the night.
"Game over, Sophia."