Clarabel's POV
I stopped outside the door, my whole body shaking. I wanted to hurl the cup away. I wanted to run. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare but something inside me snapped.
The fear, reverence, and respect I had once held for him vanished instantly. I pushed the door open and stepped inside.
Even though I had half expected it, the sight before me still made my jaw slacken.
They were kissing.
His hand was wrapped tightly around her waist while the other was tangled in her hair. They looked utterly lost in each other, as if nothing else in the world existed.
“Al-Alpha Greenwood," I hesitated before calling out his name with a courage I had no idea of. Right now, my voice did not sound a tiny amount like my own.
As soon as he heard me, he broke the kiss and turned to glare at me as though I had intruded on something sacred.
“What the hell are you doing here?” His voice sliced through what little remained of my heart, the disgust on his face so obvious that I could barely stand it.
But I forced myself to remain on my feet.
“You… you— my fast. I have not broken it yet. Please feed me water,” I said, my voice trembling with hurt and pain.
His glare darkened, as if I had said something absurd. As if I had asked for too much.
“You can’t be serious, Clara. Is that why you’re here?” Irritation and annoyance accompanied his words, causing my heart to twist painfully, but I made myself continue. “It’s tradition, Greenwood. We… we always do this together. Are you just going to stop this year because of her?” My voice cracked. “You’re hurting me.”
The tears spilled freely now.
He scoffed and turned away. “Tradition,” he repeated coldly. “Do you know what that means to me?”
I shook my head.
“You don’t? Fine! I will tell you. Tradition means nothing, especially if it involves you. Now get out of my presence!”
I blinked, hoping this was a bad dream but it wasn’t.
Greenwood’s attention moved back to Monica, who stood there watching us quietly, her face still slightly flushed.
My throat tightened even more.
“Forgive my intrusion… but I—I have something important to tell you toni—”
“Ugh.” He cut me off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “To hell with whatever you have to say. I don’t want to hear it, just get out already. You are interrupting us.”
Pain shot through me.
“How can you do this to me? I am your wife,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Yet you bring another woman into our matrimonial bed and order me to leave you both? It’s been years. You…you promised. You gave me your word. You assured me… you would stop treating me like this..”
He laughed, bitter and cruel. “Those were words made out of duty. Nothing more. You always knew I never loved you, yet you kept pushing. It’s not my fault that you have no self respect.”
Each word struck like a blow.
“How long will it take you to understand what you are to me?” His asked, his eyes cold and devoid of sympathy. “You were nothing but a means to an end. A Luna I needed standing beside me so I could ascend.”
Then his gaze shifted to Monica, and something in his face softened in a way it had never softened for me. “But now…” he said quietly, “I have the love of my life back.”
My chest caved in.
“So you’re free, Clarabel,” he finished, looking back at me with brutal indifference. “I don’t have to keep pretending anymore. Go and find someone else to love you. Go and find comfort in the arms of another man, I have given you the freedom.”
His voice rose like a whip. “I DON’T FUCKING NEED YOU ANYMORE.”
For a long while, after he dropped the bombshell, my mind couldn't process it. "You're free, Clarabel. I don’t fucking need you. You were a means to an end.”
Every insult he shot at me echoed in my head, over and over again, like a cruel joke I wasn’t meant to understand.
My fingers trembled around the cup, the water inside rippling violently.
Free? Was that supposed to be mercy? Was it pity?
Or was it just another way of telling me I had never meant anything? How could he do that after all I did for him and his Pack?!
I could hardly see now. Everything around me kept blurring, melting into a painful haze. I tried to anchor myself, to find something to hold onto, but the floor felt like it was shifting beneath my feet.
I turned to leave before he could see my face crumble. I couldn’t let him see me break down. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words had dismantled my entire existence.
Every step was heavy as though my limbs had turned to lead. Every breath made my chest ache, a constricting pressure that made it impossible to draw in enough air. I didn't make it far before I heard a voice behind me.
“Hold on,” a voice came from behind.