My 'husband'.

Evelyn's POV

Empty.

I had woken up to another empty bed. I reached the spot where my 'husband' should have slept and it was cold as ice.

His scent wasn't there. It was everywhere else, but not on the bed.

He hadn't slept here last night.

I lay still on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to fight the tears that burned the corner of my eyes.

This wasn't new. This wasn't the first time.

You would think that after being married for eight months, I would be used to this by now. Used to being ignored, to being tortured and tormented emotionally by a man I had foolishly given my heart to.

I rolled out of bed and trudged out of my room. I could hear the maids moving around the building, cleaning and chattering.

"Luna." They bowed when I walked past them, downstairs.

I was following a scent. The one scent that made my heart beat faster and blood rushing through my ears. I found him in the kitchen, naked down to the waist, holding up a frying pan. His dark hair was tousled with a few strands framing his gorgeous face.

My husband.

Alpha Cyrus of the Eclipse pack. The strongest and the most delicious-looking man on the planet.

When my father had married me off to him, it had felt like a dream come true. My life before that was hellish and painful. I lost my mother at a young age, then lost my mate, three years ago, when I turned eighteen. He died right before my eyes in a car crash.

My father and brother were the worst creatures to walk the earth. It had hurt me to leave Clara, my step-sister but I had been so happy to be with Cyrus.

Despite being so strong, everyone knew him to be kind. The kindest Alpha anyone had ever seen. People fought to work for him because he treated maids and workers better than any other Alpha did.

Even now, he was making breakfast because our old cook, Marie, had been sick the day before.

I watched his muscles flex as he set the pan on the electric cooker and poured pancake batter on it.

"Are you going to stand there, or will you speak?" He snapped.

That was right. My Alpha was kind. Kind to everyone but me.

"Good morning," I mumbled, shifting on my feet.

I wasn't sure what to say. We barely conversed and most of our conversations ended in arguments.

"What do you want?" He grumbled, flipping the pancake into a plate.

He didn't look at me. Not once.

"Wh..." I swallowed, trying to summon the courage. I was his wife. I was his Luna. And even though I knew the answer to the question I wanted to ask, I asked anyway. "Where were you last night?"

He looked at me then. The most beautiful pair of green eyes I had ever seen. They were forest green and when his wolf took over, they turned into the most liquid gold I had ever seen. They moved over my nightdress, swiftly.

I blushed. There were moments, very few moments when his gaze made me feel like the only woman in his world.

His jaw clenched and he bit out an answer. "I was with Raven."

His response reminded me that I wasn't. To him, I was the other woman.

Raven was Cyrus' childhood sweetheart. I still did not understand what the bond between them was. But when I had married Cyrus, he had spent our wedding night and most of the nights after that with Raven instead.

Not me.

Raven.

"I see," I mumbled, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill.

"If you're done interrogating," he spat and gestured at a scroll on the kitchen island. "Can you deliver this to your father?"

I picked up the scroll to see it was tightly sealed. It had to be a verdict of some kind.

"Okay," I mumbled, ready to leave then stopped. "I'll only do it if you come home for dinner tonight."

He glared at me and then shrugged. "Do whatever you want."

It wasn't a yes, but yet it wasn't exactly a no either.

After a long bath and a breakfast of cereal, because my dear husband hadn't cooked my breakfast, I made my way to my father's pack.

My father, Alpha James, had become Alpha of the New Moon pack by marrying my mother, the daughter of the previous Alpha. He had been mated to his mate and had two kids with her before she died mysteriously.

And then he married my mother and had me. For a time, it seemed like he was the best father in the world. When my mother died, everything changed.

"We're here, Luna." The driver announced, pulling up before my father's manor.

"Thank you," I mumbled, trying not to shiver at the sight of the hell I was about to step into.

Why did I come back here? Anyone else could deliver Cyrus' message.

But I needed an excuse to see Clara. She and Roman were my father's kids with his mate. Roman was a brute to the core. But Clara was essentially nice to me. She was supposed to have married Cyrus instead but felt gravely ill.

I visited her every week. She looked pale and white, I feared I would lose her.

"Well, look who it is!" Roman sneered when I walked into the house. He moved quickly, blocking me from climbing the stairs.

He looked exactly as father did. Brown shaggy hair, with the most malicious dark eyes I had ever seen. He reached for my hair, grabbing it harshly.

I whimpered, trying to break away from his painful grip.

"Hello, Evelyn." He growled. "What is a pig like you doing in my house?"

"I came... I came to deliver a message," I cried, holding up the scroll.

He snatched it with one hand and shoved me aside.

"It's for father, Roman-"

A slap streaked across my face and pain exploded behind my eyes.

"Mind your fucking business, bitch!" Roman yelled, shoving me so that I hit the wall.

"Roman!" My father thundered. I looked up to see him descend the stairs, an evil smile on his face. "You call that a hit? That's pathetic. Get up, girl, let me show your brother how it's done."

"I'll tell my husband!" I blurted.

"Like he'd believe you," Roman snickered but stepped away from me.

My father shrugged, ignored me, and reached for the scroll. While they read, I quietly snuck up the stairs and made my way to Clara's room. Was she being fed properly?

Roman was a brute and he probably even forgot she existed.

I reached her door, ready to knock when a moan reached my ears.

"Right there. Right there, Matt."

That was Clara's voice. There was another voice, deeper. A man's voice.

"Like that? Like that, Clara?"

"Oh yes!, Yes I like that! Keep fucking me!"

No. Dread coursed through me. I pushed the door open to see my sick sister on all fours, getting plowed by some man I had never met before.

My 'sick' sister did not look sick at all. And she had the nerve to toss me a wink when she saw me. "Hi, Evelyn."