Chapter 46

Chapter 46

I stormed back to our quarters, fury and hurt battling for dominance within me. How dare he? How dare he throw me to the ground and "punish" me like some disobedient child? My wolf paced anxiously beneath my skin, sensing my distress but unable to resolve the conflicting emotions coursing through me.

The hallways were mercifully empty as I made my way to our room. All I wanted was to shut myself away from everything—from Kieran's accusations, from the memory of Vanessa's perfect smile, from my own nagging doubts.

When I reached our door, I grabbed the handle and pushed, expecting it to swing open. It didn't budge. I tried again, applying more force, but the door remained firmly closed. I rattled the handle in disbelief—locked from the inside.

"Kieran?" I called, knocking sharply. "Open the door."

Silence answered me. I pressed my ear against the wood, straining to hear any movement within, but the room remained quiet.

A cold knot formed in my stomach. He had beaten me here and deliberately locked me out. After humiliating me in the garden, he was now denying me access to my own room, my own clothes, my own bed.

"Fine," I whispered, blinking back the tears that threatened. "Be that way."

Pride kept my spine straight as I walked away, though each step felt heavier than the last. The pack house had several guest rooms; I could take one of those for the night. Let him have his petty revenge. Let him think he'd won.

The guest room was sparse but functional—a bed, a bathroom, a small dresser. I closed the door behind me, finally allowing my shoulders to slump as the weight of the evening crashed over me. I hadn't brought anything with me—no nightclothes, no toiletries, not even my phone. I was effectively cut off, alone with nothing but my tumultuous thoughts.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. Had I overreacted to seeing Kieran with Vanessa? Perhaps. But his reaction had been extreme, disproportionate to my offense. If he had simply explained, if he had taken a moment to understand my perspective...

An uncomfortable heat began to build at the base of my spine, spreading slowly through my lower abdomen. At first, I attributed it to stress, to the emotional turmoil of the evening. But as minutes passed, the sensation intensified, transforming from discomfort to an unmistakable pulse of need.

"No," I whispered, recognizing the symptoms with growing dread. "Not now."

My estrus was beginning—the third since I'd arrived at the pack. The timing couldn't have been worse. Alone, emotionally raw, and now at the mercy of my biology.

I curled into myself as the first real wave of heat washed over me, bringing with it a painful sensitivity that made even the brush of fabric against my skin nearly unbearable. My breathing quickened, my body seeking relief it couldn't find alone.

Would Kieran be experiencing the same thing? Our wolves were matched, our cycles often synchronized. If he was feeling even a fraction of this desperate need, how was he coping? The thought of him suffering alone in our room sent a pang through my heart, momentarily overshadowing my anger.

But what if he wasn't alone?

The traitorous thought slipped in before I could stop it. Vanessa had been with him earlier. What if she had gone to him again? What if, driven by the same primal urges now consuming me, he had turned to her?

I shook my head violently, trying to dislodge the poisonous speculation. Kieran wouldn't do that. Whatever his faults, he had always been clear about his commitment to me as his chosen Luna.

A sound from the hallway caught my attention—a door opening and closing, followed by muffled voices. One was unmistakably Kieran's, deep and resonant even through the walls. The other was softer, feminine.

Driven by a masochistic curiosity I couldn't suppress, I crept to my door and cracked it open. The hallway was dimly lit, casting long shadows that seemed to pulse in time with my racing heart. At the far end, I could see our bedroom door now standing open, light spilling out into the corridor.

Kieran's silhouette appeared in the doorway, his powerful frame unmistakable. Behind him, another figure moved—tall, graceful, distinctly female. They spoke too quietly for me to hear the words, but the intimacy in their posture was unmistakable.

I watched, frozen in horror, as they disappeared into our room together, the door closing behind them with a soft click that echoed like thunder in my ears.

No. It couldn't be. He wouldn't.

But even as denial screamed through my mind, my body betrayed me with another wave of estrus heat, stronger than before. The timing seemed like a cruel joke—my body preparing to mate while my supposed mate was with another woman.

I stumbled back from the door, bile rising in my throat. The bathroom beckoned—a sanctuary where I could fall apart in private. I barely made it inside before the first sob tore from my chest, followed quickly by the violent emptying of my stomach.

I retched until there was nothing left, then slid to the cold tile floor, tears streaming down my face. The physical discomfort of estrus combined with the emotional agony of betrayal was almost more than I could bear. My wolf howled in misery, her pain merging with mine until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

How could he do this? How could he claim me as his Luna, demand my trust and loyalty, only to turn to another the moment we argued? The hypocrisy burned like acid in my veins.

My body shook with another wave of heat, this one sharp enough to make me cry out. I couldn't do this—couldn't endure the physical torment while my heart was being torn apart. I needed relief, needed numbness.

With trembling legs, I forced myself to stand, clinging to the sink for support. The guest bathrooms were always stocked with basic medical supplies, including—if I was lucky—the tranquilizers used for wolves in distress.

My search was rewarded with a small kit tucked away in the medicine cabinet. Inside, I found what I needed—a prefilled syringe labeled for use during estrus complications. The doctor had warned me that frequent use could eventually affect my fertility, but in this moment, I didn't care about future consequences. I needed escape.

With practiced movements born of desperation, I administered the injection, barely feeling the prick of the needle through the haze of pain and betrayal. The effect wasn't immediate, but knowing relief would come soon gave me enough strength to wash my face and return to the bedroom.

I curled onto the unfamiliar bed, pulling the blanket tightly around me despite the heat radiating from my skin. As the tranquilizer began to work, dulling both physical sensation and emotional pain, my thoughts grew mercifully foggy.

The last image in my mind before unconsciousness claimed me was Kieran's silhouette in the doorway, another woman's shadow merging with his. The betrayal followed me into darkness, a wound that even chemical-induced sleep couldn't heal.