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Solane thought that it was a cosmic joke.
The names in her file mocked her.
Damon Blackthorn, Alpha of Blackthorn Corporation
Lyra Smith, Omega, Actress
Caleb Blackthorn, his son.
All checked into A VIP suite after a crash.
This should be a mistake, there was no chance.
Solane's wolf whimpered. The betrayal was hard, and her intern gushing outside her cabin was not helping at all.
"Did you just see, Damon Blackthorn is here with Lyra Smith?"
"Aww I heard they are childhood sweethearts."
Her intern whispered, starry-eyed, "The Alpha refused discharge just to stay by her side. They say she's his first love. He waited six years for her. Like a tragic romance drama."
Every breath felt like a task to her. Maybe it was all a coincidence, and the people are nothing more than similar names.
Yes. This was what it was.
But the moment she reached the private suite and heard the voices inside, her world shattered.
Her blood froze , chest ached, as if her heart was wretched out of her chest. Their words were like watching her wolf being torn apart. The pain was surreal.
"Aunt Lyra, this photo looks so good. I want to hang it in our penthouse." Caleb's young voice travelled to her.
"Of course, you can sweetheart," Lyra said, her soft words felt like salt to her wounds.
"Let her rest, Caleb." Damon's calm voice washed over her.
"No Damon, it's alright. You know how much I love Caleb. He is my little ray of sunshine." Her voice was soft.
The file said Damon bore only scratches. Caleb had a bruised arm. Lyra, however, had a crack in her bone. No reason to book a whole suite for her, but he did that nonetheless. For what?
Sloane had smiled bitterly at that. Six years she'd stood at his side, not as Luna, not even as wife in name, just the convenient woman who cooked, cleaned, and kept his heir alive while he pined for another.
And for what? So that he can obsess over Omega sprawled in that bed.
Can she even be called a mate, when he never publicly acknowledged her?
She pressed her back to the wall, listening.
"You're the best. I wish you were my mom." Caleb said.
Lyra murmured sweetly, "We can't do that? Can we?"
Damon, calm and unreadable, replied, "He's just a pup. He says what he thinks."
The words sliced through Sloane like silver.
By the time she pushed open the door, she was no longer the Luna, the mate, who hoped. She was the doctor.
The scene mocked her. Caleb clutching a photo, Lyra reclining against Damon's chest, their tableau glowing like the real pack while Sloane stood as the intruder.
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