That was all it took for Gideon’s loyalties to shift.
Slowly. Quietly. Cruelly.
He didn’t announce the affair outright, but his behavior made denial impossible—late nights at the office, hushed conversations he wouldn’t take near me, his scent constantly mixed with hers, and now… her underwear hidden in his jacket like some kind of twisted trophy.
I had already decided to leave him for good. But first, I needed to face him. To face them.
Gideon hadn’t returned home since last night anyway; he’d chosen not to.
After showering and dressing, I ordered a pack-runner carriage to take me straight to the Lunar Crest Headquarters—the massive tower Gideon and I built together from nothing but dreams, determination, and my secret resources.
Not once had he offered me a place within its leadership. He claimed he loved that I stayed home, that I kept our den warm and comfortable. I believed him. I swallowed his excuses. I didn’t see the poison creeping in until Brielle arrived and he began praising her every sunrise.
Stopping in front of the towering glass structure, I felt a mixture of pride and grief. My efforts had shaped this empire, yet my name was nowhere on it.
I entered the lift rune and ascended to the top floor. As I stepped out, the receptionist—an Omega wolf with a soft smile—looked up and bowed her head respectfully.
“Good morning, Luna. Alpha Gideon hasn’t returned yet,” she informed me.
I inclined my head. “It’s fine. I’ll wait for him.”
Walking past her, I pushed open the door to Gideon’s office—and froze.
Brielle lounged in Gideon’s chair like she owned the place, her long leg draped across his desk, tapping playfully against his stack of documents. The moment she caught sight of me, she flinched, scrambling upright. Her false sweetness rushed over her like a mask she practiced in the mirror.
“L-Luna Selene,” she stammered, bowing her head. “My apologies. I was only waiting for Alpha Gideon.”
I let out a cold, humorless breath. “Drop the act, Brielle. I see your game clearly enough.”
Her head lifted slowly, and something shifted in her eyes.
The fear vanished.
The trembling stopped.
What remained was pure defiance.
“I was trying to be courteous, Selene,” she replied, her tone chillingly polite—polished, sharp, venomous.
The sudden change sent a flicker of shock through me, but I quickly swallowed it down. “So the mask finally cracks,” I said flatly.