Wolves of Betrayal

Chapter : 15. A moment of deprive..

That night, despite Darius’s comforting presence and his words of reassurance, Amara found sleep elusive. Her mind was a whirl of chaotic thoughts, trapped between the past and the present. She lay curled up in the warmth of her bed, but her body remained tense, her heart still racing from the battle and the heavy weight of the secrets she carried. Eventually, exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted off into a restless sleep. But her dreams offered no peace.

[Flashback: The Luna ceremony]

She was back in the Blood Moon Packhouse, dressed in a beautiful white gown that flowed around her ankles like a river of silk. It was her Luna ceremony, the day she was supposed to be accepted as Killian’s mate and the Luna of the Blood Moon Pack. Her stomach was twisted in knots, not just from the significance of the day, but from the whispers and murmurs she could hear all around her.

The announcement had been shocking to many in the pack—an unheard-of decision to make a wolfless omega their Luna. She had been chosen by the Moon Goddess as Killian’s fated mate, but that hadn’t made it any easier for the pack to accept her. She could feel the judgment, the resentment, and the hostility like a heavy weight pressing down on her.

The pack had been divided into two factions. One side, loyal to Killian, accepted his choice, however reluctantly. But the other, led by his brother Marcus, vehemently opposed it. They couldn’t fathom the idea of an orphan omega—especially a wolfless one—being elevated to such a powerful position. And as the Luna ceremony approached, their discontent only grew louder, more dangerous.

Amara stood in the grand hall, the walls adorned with flowers and banners, everything meticulously arranged to honor the new Luna. She was surrounded by strangers, their eyes following her every move with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. Her palms were clammy, her breath shallow. She needed air. She needed to get away.

Without a word, she slipped out of the hall and into the cool night. The forest was quiet, save for the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. She walked deeper into the woods, her footsteps soft against the earth, trying to calm the storm of anxiety churning inside her. She felt like an intruder in this place, like she didn’t belong, even though she was born and grew up in that same pack. The voices of doubt echoed in her mind, drowning out any sense of peace.

But as she walked, she felt it—another presence in the forest. She stopped, her senses prickling with unease. She turned slowly, scanning the shadows, and that’s when she saw him—Marcus, emerging from the darkness like a phantom.

His face was twisted with anger, his eyes burning with disdain. “What are you doing here, wolfless?” he spat, his voice filled with venom. “Hiding from your own ceremony?”

Amara’s heart skipped a beat, fear coiling in her gut. She had never liked Marcus. He had always been cold to her, even before she was chosen as Killian’s mate. But now, the hatred in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Marcus, I—” she stammered, trying to find her voice. “I just needed some air. Please, I don’t want any trouble.”

“Trouble?” Marcus sneered, stepping closer. “You think you can just walk in and take over as Luna? A wolfless omega? You’re a disgrace to this pack. You’ll ruin everything my family has built.”

Amara took a step back, her heart pounding in her ears. She could feel the hostility radiating off him, see the tension in his muscles as he advanced. “I don’t want to ruin anything,” she said, her voice trembling. “I never asked for this. I never wanted to be Luna.”

Marcus’s face twisted with rage. “Then why don’t you do us all a favor and disappear?” he growled. “You’re not fit to lead. You’re not fit to be by my brother’s side. You’re just a worthless omega.”

Before she could react, Marcus lunged at her, his eyes wild with fury. His hand closed around her throat, and he slammed her back against a tree, the bark digging painfully into her skin. She gasped, struggling to breathe, her vision blurring with panic.

“You should have never been chosen,” Marcus snarled, his grip tightening. “You don’t belong.”

In that moment, a surge of fear and desperation overtook her. She could feel herself slipping away, her vision narrowing as darkness closed in. She had to do something—anything—to survive. Her hands scrabbled against his arm, and she mustered every ounce of strength she had left, shoving him as hard as she could.

Marcus stumbled back, his eyes wide with shock. But he didn’t see the tree branch protruding behind him. His back hit it hard, and she heard a sickening c***k. His body went limp, his eyes glazing over with a look of sudden, awful realization. He crumpled to the ground, his head lolling to the side, lifeless.

Amara stared in horror, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “No, no, no…” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. She hadn’t meant to kill him. She had only wanted to protect herself. She fell to her knees beside him, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch his face. “Marcus… I’m sorry…”

And then, she heard it—a low, guttural growl. She looked up, her eyes wide with terror, and saw Killian standing there, his face twisted with shock and rage. He took in the scene—his brother’s lifeless body, Amara’s bloodstained hands—and his eyes filled with a darkness she had never seen before.

“You,” he hissed, his voice breaking with grief. “You killed him.”

“No, Killian, I didn’t mean to—” she pleaded, but he wasn’t listening. His grief morphed into something else, something more terrifying. His expression hardened, his fists clenching at his sides.

“You murdered my brother,” he growled, his voice shaking with fury. “You’ll pay for this, Amara. I swear it.”

From that moment on, everything changed. Killian’s love turned into a burning obsession—a need to make her suffer as he believed she had made him suffer. He dragged her back to the packhouse, throwing her into the dungeon, and there she stayed for months, forgotten and forsaken, until she managed to escape.

[End Flashback]

Now, in her nightmare, she relived that awful day over and over, the terror and the guilt pressing down on her like a suffocating weight. She could see Marcus’s face in her mind, his eyes wide with shock as he fell. She could hear Killian’s enraged cries, could feel his hands on her as he threw her into that cold, dark cell.

Amara jolted awake, her breath catching in her throat as she clawed her way out of the nightmare. Her body was drenched in sweat, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. She could still feel the panic, the terror of that night in the forest with Marcus. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for the dark, suffocating walls of the dungeon she had been thrown into after that awful day.

But instead, she found herself in her room in the Nightshade Packhouse. The dim light of dawn filtered through the window, casting soft, muted shadows across the walls. She wasn’t alone. She felt a warm presence beside her and turned to see Darius sitting on the edge of her bed, his face etched with concern. Relief washed over her, and without thinking, she reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace, burying her face against his shoulder.

“Darius,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “You’re here.”

His arms came around her, strong and comforting, holding her close. She could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek, grounding her, pulling her back to reality. “I’m here,” he murmured softly, his voice a low rumble. “You’re safe, Amara. It’s okay.”

She clung to him, her body trembling. She hadn’t realized just how much she needed his presence, his strength. “I—I thought I was back there,” she stammered, her voice breaking. “In that pack, with Marcus… I could see everything so clearly.”

Darius’s hand moved to gently stroke her hair, his touch soothing. “You were having a nightmare,” he explained quietly. “You’ve been groaning and screaming in your sleep. That’s what made me come and check on you.”

Amara pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, her chest tightening with emotion. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just… I’m so scared, Darius. I’m so scared of my past.”

He shook his head, his expression softening as he wiped a tear from her cheek. “Don’t apologize,” he said gently. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve been through so much… it’s no wonder it haunts you.”