When My Alpha Ex-Husband Came Looking for Me, I was Already GoneChapter 3

I should have left immediately after discovering Lucas’s secret.

Instead, I attended Maurine’s art exhibition.

Not because my father ordered it, though he did.

Not because Lucas asked, though he did that too, standing outside my study with his wounds still hidden under perfect armor.

I went because the invitation card displayed one of my paintings.

My painting.

The one I had locked in the attic after Maurine destroyed my name at the academy.

Years ago, painting had been the only thing that made the Aethon house bearable. I painted wolves with broken antlers, girls with blood on their hands, moons sinking into black lakes. Then Maurine submitted my work under her name and cried when I accused her. She said I was jealous. My father believed her. The academy believed her.

I stopped painting after that.

Now my work hung on her invitation, signed with her name in gold.

The Luna Gallery was crowded when I arrived. Moonlight fell through the glass ceiling in silver sheets. Nobles moved from canvas to canvas, praising Maurine’s “raw emotion” and “haunting talent.”

I stood before a painting of a girl kneeling beneath a dead tree.

My dead tree.

My girl.

My brushstrokes.

Lucas came to stand beside me. “You look pale.”

“She stole this.”

His face barely changed. “Rebecca.”

I laughed softly. “You haven’t even heard the explanation, and you already don’t believe me.”

His silence was answer enough.

At the center of the gallery, Maurine accepted compliments with a shy smile. “Art saved me,” she told the crowd. “Even when my own family misunderstood me, I painted through the pain.”

I almost applauded.

Then Cyrus entered with Silvana guards behind him.

Every conversation stopped.

He carried a long black case in both hands and lowered it before Maurine. “A gift from my Alpha.”

Inside lay the Red Lotus Moonstone.

Not the real one. I knew that immediately. The true Red Lotus was sealed in Silvana’s cursed forest, or so legends claimed. This was a ceremonial replica, still priceless, still enough to make half the room gasp.

Maurine pressed both hands to her lips. “Your Alpha is too generous.”

Cyrus bowed.

His eyes found Lucas for one heartbeat.

I wanted to laugh until I bled.

Maurine did not know the Alpha sending her treasures stood only a few steps away, disguised as my guard. Lucas did not know the woman he worshiped was enjoying gifts from a mystery Alpha while treating him as a convenient shadow.

Everyone was lying to everyone.

Maybe that was the only honest thing in the room.

I walked to the balcony before I lost control.

The night air was cold enough to clear my head.

Maurine followed.

Of course.

“You shouldn’t glare at the paintings so much,” she said, voice sweet. “People might think you still care.”

I did not turn. “You stole them.”

“You abandoned them.”

“They were mine.”

She leaned beside the railing, smiling at the moon. “You sound like your mother. Always claiming things no one cared enough to protect.”

My claws slid halfway out.

Maurine’s smile widened.

There it was.

The real face beneath the soft one.

“Say that again,” I whispered.

Before I could move, she tipped her own glass over her dress and screamed.

“Rebecca!”

The balcony doors flew open.

Lucas arrived first.

He saw the red wine spreading over Maurine’s pale gown. He saw my claws. He saw what he wanted to see.

His aura slammed into the air. “Enough.”

I stared at him.

Then I picked up my untouched glass from the railing and threw its contents straight into Maurine’s face.

This time, the act was mine.

The guests gasped behind us.

Maurine stood frozen, wine dripping from her lashes.

“That,” I said, “was for mocking my mother.”

Lucas grabbed my arm as I walked past him. “Why do you always have to hurt her?”

I looked down at his hand.

He released me slowly.

“Because she steals,” I said. “My mother’s peace. My work. My home. Your loyalty. And every time, someone like you calls it innocence.”

His eyes hardened. “You’re twisting the truth again.”

“No, Lucas. I’m finally done explaining it to males who prefer pretty lies.”

I left the gallery.

But I did not go home.

When Lucas drove Maurine away, I followed in a hired cab.

They stopped at the Butterfly Conservatory on the edge of the city. Maurine had once bragged that she would only mark a mate beneath moonlit wings and flowering vines, because ordinary love was too dull for her.

Through the glass wall, I watched her stand before Lucas beneath a cloud of pale moths.

She touched his cheek.

He bowed his head.

She bit into his neck.

The mark flared silver.

My wolf recoiled as if the teeth had entered our own flesh.

Lucas did not resist. His hands curled around her waist. His eyes closed. His body shuddered under the incomplete bond.

Maurine pulled back before he could mark her in return.

A cruel little smile touched her lips.

Lucas only lifted one hand to the wound on his neck.

Then he whispered, like a vow, “I’m yours.”

I turned away before my wolf could howl.