Chapter 11: Unraveling Bonds

(Azaria's Point of View)

The next morning, I awoke with a renewed sense of determination. I would succeed, no matter what obstacles lay ahead. After the invigorating pack run and a hearty breakfast, I headed to my office to prepare for the day. Today marked phase three of my plan, and everything had to go perfectly. As I reviewed my notes and sorted through paperwork, my thoughts were interrupted by a brisk knock at the door.

Stephanie entered promptly, her presence a mixture of confidence and curiosity. "Good morning," she greeted, her eyes widening briefly before settling into a more composed expression. She moved gracefully to the seat she had occupied the previous day.

I studied her as she walked in, noting the careful way she carried herself—poised yet slightly guarded. Today, there was something different about her; perhaps it was the way her green eyes seemed to glimmer with something unsaid or how she held her shoulders a bit straighter. Whatever it was, I sensed it, and it set me on edge. As she approached, a subtle scent reached me—vanilla and almonds. The aroma was sweet and familiar, yet I hadn't noticed it before. Before I could respond to Stephanie's greeting, a voice broke through the fog of my thoughts. Nyrie's voice rang clear and strong in my mind, a single, powerful word echoing with a ground shattering truth: Mate.

My stomach dropped at the revelation, my mind spinning with the implications. Stephanie, my mate? This was an unexpected twist I hadn't planned for, a complication that could jeopardize everything if not handled correctly. My thoughts raced, considering how this could affect my plans, but I quickly pushed them aside. I needed to stay focused, to maintain control.

Forcing a smile, I greeted her warmly, "Good morning, Stephanie. Let's get started; we have a lot to cover today." My voice was steady, but my mind was anything but. The weight of Nyrie's revelation hung heavy between us, invisible but palpable.

We dove into the day's work, starting with my official Luna duties. Stephanie handled the paperwork with meticulous care, her attention to detail evident in every task. We moved through the documents systematically, discussing inter-pack relations and the various issues that had been piling up over the past few days. By the time lunch rolled around, we had made significant progress, but there was still much to do.

After a brief break, we returned to the more delicate matters. The afternoon was spent reviewing the hidden aspects of my role—overseeing shelters, managing the job assistance program, coordinating the elders' initiatives, supporting the orphanages, and directing my personal Luna assignments. These tasks, unknown to most, were crucial to maintaining the pack's strength and unity. They required discretion and a keen understanding of our members' needs and vulnerabilities.

As we worked, I began probing Stephanie with questions—some trivial, some more probing. I needed to understand her, to gauge how she might fit into the larger picture of my plans. "What's your favorite color?" I asked casually, to which she replied with a smile, "Green, like the forest in spring."

I nodded, noting her answer, and continued. "What about your life before coming here? Any notable experiences?"

Stephanie hesitated briefly, then shared snippets of her past, revealing a depth of character shaped by resilience and quiet strength. "I've always been drawn to helping others," she said softly, her eyes distant as if recalling a memory. "My family was small, and we moved around a lot, but my mother always taught me to stand tall, no matter what."

As she spoke, I felt a connection forming, a mutual understanding that transcended our initial roles as Luna and aide. Her openness and the way her guard seemed to lower with each passing moment made me realize how similar we were—two women shaped by hardship, bound by a silent determination to survive and thrive.

The more she shared, the more I found myself admiring her resilience. There was a quiet strength about her, a fortitude that reminded me of my own journey and the battles I had fought to get to where I was. I saw in her a reflection of the woman I used to be before life's harsh realities hardened my edges and steeled my resolve. She was still open to the world, still hopeful despite her experiences. It was both inspiring and a stark reminder of the price of my own survival.

As the conversation turned more personal, I decided to take a calculated risk. I shared some of my own experiences with childhood abuse, recounting the cruelty of my stepmother and the scars—both visible and hidden—that marked my journey. "Years of abuse with silver whips and wolfsbane poison can do wonders to a person's mental and physical well-being," I said, my voice steady despite the weight of the memories. "Though my mental scars are by far worse than my physical ones."

To emphasize my point, I briefly removed my shirt, revealing the network of scars that crisscrossed my back and stomach. The room fell into a heavy silence as Stephanie took in the sight of the marks, each one a testament to a battle fought and survived. Her eyes widened, not with horror, but with understanding. I could see her walls come down completely as she realized the depths of the pain I had endured and survived.

For the next hour, we shared more of our pasts, trading stories of hardship and resilience, finding common ground in our experiences. Stephanie opened up about her own struggles, the battles she fought to carve out a place for herself, and the people she had lost along the way. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, but there was strength in her words—a quiet resolve that resonated deeply with my own.

"I never really had a place to call home," she admitted, her gaze distant. "Moving from one pack to another, never feeling truly accepted. It's why I value loyalty so much. When I joined this pack, I felt a sense of belonging for the first time."

I nodded, feeling a pang of empathy for her. "I understand. It's hard to find that kind of connection, especially when you've been on your own for so long."

She glanced at me, her eyes softening. "That's why I'm here, Luna—I mean, Azaria. I want to make a difference. I want to be part of something meaningful."

I smiled at her, appreciating her sincerity. "And you will, Stephanie. I can see that you have a lot to offer."

As the conversation lightened again, we moved back to lighter topics, laughing about the trivialities of daily life and the small joys that kept us going. I could feel the bond between us solidifying, the tentative threads of trust weaving together into something stronger.

It was now or never. Smiling warmly, I looked up from my desk to where Stephanie was standing, filing a stack of forms. Her back was to me, but I could sense the ease in her posture, the way her guard had dropped entirely.

"Soo," I began in the sweetest tone I could muster, "how long have you been seeing Alpha?"

Stephanie froze. The stack of papers in her hands slipped slightly, scattering a few across the floor. For a moment, she didn't move. Her eyes widened with shock, her face paling as she turned slowly to face me.

The silence between us stretched painfully, her green eyes flickering with fear and uncertainty. I kept my expression neutral, waiting. I knew what the answer was—I had known for some time—but I needed to hear it from her, even if she wasn't ready to say it aloud.

"I…" she started, her voice faltering, clearly unsure of how to respond. Her gaze darted to the floor, as if looking for an escape.

I sighed softly, maintaining a calm and understanding tone. "Stephanie, you don't have to answer right now. I won't pressure you," I said, my voice steady and firm. "When you're ready, tell me your truth, just know that I will listen without judgement of you."

Her eyes flicked back up to meet mine, and for a moment, I saw the flash of something—guilt, maybe, or relief. She swallowed hard, nodding silently in acknowledgment. I could see the turmoil in her expression, the weight of her choices pressing heavily on her shoulders.

"I understand, Luna," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not angry so no need to apologize," I reassured her. "Just tell me when you're ready. I want to help you, but I can only do that if you're honest with me."

She nodded again, her shoulders relaxing slightly as the tension between us eased. I watched her for a moment longer before turning back to the papers on my desk. I could still feel the weight of the unspoken words between us, but for now, I would let it go. Stephanie wasn't ready to face the full truth, but I had planted the seed.

As Stephanie quietly returned to her tasks, I couldn't help but wonder how deep her involvement with Ethan went. The man I was bound to had already taken so much from me, and now, knowing there's a chance he manipulated Stephanie as well, made my stomach churn. The betrayal was deep, but there was still time to untangle the threads. I would wait. For now.

(Ethan's Point of View)

I paced my office, jaw clenched, fingers flexing in agitation. The moment I sensed Azaria pulling back, I knew things would start going wrong. She had grown distant these last few days—colder, more calculating. That little Luna of mine always had fire, but now it was different. Now she is watching me, questioning things. It is irritating.

She didn't used to be like this, not in the beginning. Back then, she was pliable—eager to please, eager to prove herself as Luna. She let me take the credit for everything, from integrating the witches and werebeasts to improving relations with other packs. It wasn't like she needed the recognition anyway. That was my role, to be the face of strength and vision. I had convinced her long ago that my presence was enough to keep the pack together. What did it matter if I took the credit? I was the Alpha.

But lately, she had been different. She'd been asking too many questions, especially about my… situation. Azaria is no fool, and I can feel her patience wearing thin.

The thought of her knowing about Stephanie, of her cornering me into some kind of ultimatum—divorce—sent a cold shiver down my spine. Divorce would destroy my reputation, shatter the image of the perfect Alpha who had everything under control. And then there was the matter of Stephanie. Sweet, devoted Stephanie.

A slow, calculated smile spread across my lips as I thought of her. Stephanie was nothing like Azaria—so soft, so willing to please, so obedient. She adored me, worshipped me, and I made sure she felt loved in return. I showered her with compliments, attention, affection, anything she needed to feel secure in her position as my… companion. She believed every word I said, every promise I whispered in her ear. She would never dare question me the way Azaria did.

That was how I liked it.

Azaria, on the other hand, had grown defiant. In private, she tried to challenge me, but I always put her back in her place. She knew better than to resist me when I wanted her, even if she didn't always consent. But what did that matter? I am her Alpha, her husband. It was my right, my duty to take what I want when I want. She has long since stopped trying to fight me off, though she sometimes turned away, tears slipping down her face when she thought I wasn't looking.

She had grown weaker over time. Or maybe it was me who had grown stronger.

I frowned, shaking my head. Azaria was no longer useful to me in the way she once was. But divorce… No, that would ruin everything. I had to play my cards right, keep her tethered just enough so she wouldn't try anything drastic.

But what if she found out? What if she forced me into a corner? The mere thought of losing everything sent a wave of panic through me, but I quickly tamped it down. I would not let her control the narrative. I was the Alpha. I decided what was best for the pack, for her. She would fall in line, just like she always had.

And if she pushed too hard?

I clenched my fists, the idea of Azaria trying to undermine me—trying to force a divorce—infuriating. I'd put her back in her place if I had to. Publicly, she could maintain her little image as Luna, but privately? Privately, she was mine to break, to mold as I saw fit.

But Stephanie… I needed to keep her close, keep her loyal. I would continue showering her with affection, letting her believe she was the one I truly loved. She would never know the truth—that I only kept her around to satisfy my needs when it suited me. She was a tool, and as long as she didn't know her place in the grander scheme, I could control her easily.

As I leaned back in my chair, a wicked smile tugged at the corners of my lips. Azaria would never suspect that I had already mapped out how this would play. I'd give her just enough attention to keep her from digging too deep, keep up the appearance of a loving Alpha and husband in front of the pack. And Stephanie? I would keep feeding her the lies she craved, keeping her trapped in the illusion that she was my one and only.

But if Azaria thought she could push me into a corner, she was sorely mistaken.

(Azaria's POINT OF VIEW)

Later that evening, Ethan appeared at my door, his expression a mix of frustration and confusion. "Why do you need an aide, Aria? You're perfectly fine. I don't see the point. You could just ask Marcus or Theo to help more."

I sighed, maintaining a calm demeanor despite his agitation. "Ethan, we been through this. Besides they are already busy with their duties to the pack. Theo has already taken over more than his share of my word as is. And now that I've spent time with my aide, I quite like her and have no plans on ending her position anytime soon."

He frowned, clearly irritated by my response. "Oh really? I wasn't informed that you had chosen an aide already."

"Yes, and like I said, it's working out quite nicely," I replied evenly. "Plus, I'm feeling better already after just one day with help, that Stephanie is a red-headed godsend. I think we'll become good friends."

Ethan's jaw tightened, but he nodded reluctantly. "Fine. I'll leave it for now. But don't try me, Aria. I don't like being made a fool."

As he left, I closed the door behind him, my mind whirling with everything that had transpired. This day had been full of revelations, some expected, others not. But I felt more determined than ever to see my plan through, to take control of my fate and ensure that I never again found myself at the mercy of anyone else's decisions.

As I prepared for bed, my thoughts continued to race. How could I have ever respected such a foolish man? How had I allowed myself to be manipulated by him for so long? But those days were over. I was no longer the naïve Luna who could be easily swayed by promises and lies. I was stronger now, wiser, and ready to reclaim my life on my terms.

With that final resolve, I drifted off to sleep, my dreams filled with visions of freedom and the strength to forge my path, no matter what obstacles lay ahead.