---- Chapter 16 Damien POV: | was still on my knees amidst the ruins of my ambition when the commotion started outside. A ripple of excitement, a few scattered shouts. "The future Luna is here!" My head snapped up. Elara. A wild, desperate hope surged through me. She had come back. She had heard about the trouble and had come back to save me, to save us. | scrambled to my feet, ignoring Kai's concerned call, and burst out of the conference room. | ran through the corridors of the building she had helped me build, my heart hammering against my ribs. But the woman | saw standing in the lobby was not Elara. It was Lyra. She was dressed in an expensive new dress, her hair perfectly styled, a triumphant smile on her face. She held a large basket filled with lavish gifts, handing them out to the employees who gathered around her, their faces a mixture of confusion and sycophantic greed. She was playing the part of the magnanimous new queen. "Our new Luna is so generous!" one of the younger wolves ---- gushed. But not everyone was fawning. | saw Martha, a senior accountant who had worked closely with Elara, turn her back with a look of pure disgust. Lyra's sharp eyes caught the movement, and a flicker of venom crossed her face before being replaced by that sweet, cloying smile. "Damien!" She spotted me and her smile widened. She rushed over, throwing her arms around my neck. "| brought you lunch! | was so worried about you." Her scent, a cheap perfume trying to mask the metallic tang of a rogue, filled my nostrils and made me want to recoil. It was nothing like Elara's scent of vanilla and moonlight that had always felt like coming home. | stiffly pulled away from her embrace. "What are you doing here, Lyra?" "Supporting my Alpha, of course," she said, her voice dripping with false sincerity. She took my arm and led me towards my office. The moment the door closed behind us, her sweet demeanor vanished. "That old wolf, Martha. | want her gone," she snapped. "She disrespected me. | want her exiled." | stared at her, dumbfounded. "Martha? She's one of our most vital accountants. She's been with the pack for twenty years. | can't just exile her." ---- Lyra's eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembling. It was the same act she'd used a hundred times, and for the first time, it didn't stir an ounce of pity in me. It just made me tired. "But I'm your mate now, aren't I?" she whimpered. "They need to respect me. They all look down on me because | was a rogue. If you don't stand up for me, who will?" | looked at this woman, this source of all my current misery, and an image of Elara flashed in my mind. Elara, who had commanded respect with her quiet grace and intelligence. Elara, who had always considered the pack's well-being above her own feelings. Elara, who would never, ever have made such a petty, destructive demand. A wave of regret so powerful it almost buckled my knees washed over me. What had | done? "Fine," | said, my voice hollow. | was too exhausted to fight. "Do what you want." Lyra's tears vanished instantly. A triumphant, possessive smile spread across her face. She leaned in and pressed her lips to mine. Her kiss tasted like ash.