Chapter 76 The Morning After

Chapter 76 The Morning After

Zane POV~

I woke up to the wrong ceiling. No the right ceiling actually, just that my head is a bit messed up.

My head was pounding, my mouth tasted like old whiskey and regret, and there was a weight against my chest that didn't belong there.

I looked down and my stomach dropped straight through the floor.

Sloane.

Naked. Curled into me like she had every right to be there. Like this was normal. Like I hadn't spent the entire night with Ember's name sitting behind my teeth.

I shoved myself up so fast the room spun.

"Get up." My voice came out low, dangerous.

She stretched, slow and deliberate, not even bothering to cover herself.

"Good morning to you too."

"Get the fuck up Sloane."

"You didn't seem to mind me being here a few hours ago." She smiled like she'd already won a war I didn't know I was fighting.

I was still scrambling for words when the door swung open without a knock.

My mother.

And she was glowing as usual.

"Finally!" She clasped her hands together like she'd just witnessed a miracle.

"I knew it. I knew you two would come around."

"Mom..."

"Don't 'Mom' me, Zane. Do you know how long I've been praying for this? For you to see sense?" She walked further into the room, completely unbothered by the mess of sheets, the mess of us, like she'd rehearsed this moment in her head a thousand times.

"Since you're already this far along," she said, gesturing between me and Sloane like we were a finished project, "why don't we go ahead with the proper procedures? I'll call the council today. We can have the binding ceremony within the week."

"Mom, what the hell are you talking about?"

"The binding, Zane. You and Sloane. It's time to make it official."

I felt something in my chest crack open, hot and furious.

"There is no me and Sloane." I spat the words out like poison.

"Last night was a mistake. I was drunk. I didn't even know what I was doing until it was already happening."

Sloane sat up slower this time, and for the first time I saw something flicker across her face that wasn't smugness. Hurt, maybe. Gone just as fast.

"A mistake," she repeated.

"That's what you're calling it."

"What else would I call it, Sloane? You climbed into my lap wearing Ember's scent like a costume. You tricked me into it."

"I didn't trick you into anything you didn't already want, Zane."

"I wanted Ember." I said it loud enough that it bounced off the walls.

"Not you, and will never you."

My mother's face shifted, the glow draining out of it fast.

"Ember left, Zane. She's gone. You need to stop chasing a ghost and start thinking about your pack, your position, your future."

"Ember isn't a ghost. She's out there somewhere in danger" I stopped myself, it wasn't necessary.

My mother's eyes narrowed.

"And why do you still care, Zane?"

"She's my mate mother." I looked away.

Sloane was watching me now with a different kind of attention, the kind that made my skin crawl.

Calculating. Filing something away for later.

"Mom, I need you to leave. Sloane needs to leave. I need both of you out of my room and let me think."

"There's nothing to think about." My mother's voice hardened into something I recognized the tone she used when she'd already decided something and was just waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.

"The council already denied Ember as your mate. You slept with Sloane. That's practically a claim in the eyes of tradition, Zane, whether you like the terminology or not."

"It wasn't a claim. It was a mistake. I keep saying the same word and none of you are listening."

"I'm listening," Sloane said quietly.

"I heard you the first time."

Something about the way she said it made me look at her properly for the first time since I'd woken up.

She wasn't smiling anymore.

"Good," I said.

"Then you understand why you need to leave."

"I understand that you're in love with a woman who ran off in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye." Her voice sharpened again, the softness gone as fast as it came.

"I understand that you spent the night with me, whether you want to admit it meant something or not. And I understand that the council already has their answer, Zane, whether your heart agrees with it or not."

"My heart is the only thing that gets a vote here."

"Is it?" She stood, unhurried, pulling the sheet around herself like armor.

"Because from where I'm standing, hearts don't run packs. Bloodlines do. Bonds recognized by the moon goddess do. And right now, the only bond anyone can point to that actually held is the one you and I made last night."

"That's not a bond, Sloane. That's you taking advantage of me while I was out of my mind with grief."

"Careful," my mother cut in, sharp.

"That's the future Luna you're speaking to."

"She is not my Luna." I turned on her fully now, my wolf pushing right up under my skin, and I let some of it show in my voice because I needed her to actually hear me for once.

"I don't care what the council says, I don't care what tradition says, I don't care if the whole moon goddess-forsaken world lines up and tells me Sloane is my mate. I know what I felt with Ember. I know what's true in my chest, and it was never her."

The room went quiet.

Sloane's jaw tightened, and for a second I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

"You'll come around," she said finally, gathering her clothes off the floor with a calm that felt more dangerous than her anger had.

"Grief makes people say all kinds of things they don't mean. I'll give you time, Zane. I'm patient."

"Don't wait on my account."

She paused at the door, looking back at me with an expression I couldn't quite name something between pity and warning.

"I'd start looking for your runaway girl if I were you," she said.

"Because the longer she stays gone, the more time I get to prove I'm exactly what this pack needs. And trust me, Zane. I intend to use every second of it."

She left. My mother lingered a moment longer, disappointment radiating off her like heat, before she followed.

I sat on the edge of the bed, head in my hands, the whiskey and the guilt and the ache all fighting for the same space in my chest.

Ember was out there somewhere. Probably, right in the hands of a predator. And I'd just spent the night proving to everyone, including myself, exactly how easy it was to fall apart the second she was gone.