Claiming Her Ruthless King

Emery.

The decanter of whiskey felt cool against her palms. She smiled, tracing the crystal stopper with her thumb. It was Gavin’s favorite, aged twenty years, smooth as silk with a bite of fire at the end. Just like him.

Beside it on the silver tray sat two perfect moonpetal tarts, their sugared tops glistening under the afternoon sun streaming through the hallway window. A small offering. A private celebration before the main event.

Tonight was the Lunar Ceremony. The night their three year courtship would be sealed, their mating bond finalized before the entire Silver Creek pack. She would officially become their Luna.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic, happy rhythm. Three years she had spent by his side, watching him transform a struggling pack into a prosperous one. Three years she had secretly poured her own royal vitality into the parched earth, making the crops flourish and the streams run clean.

He thought it was all his doing. His strength as an Alpha. She never corrected him. His pride was part of what she loved.

She reached his office, the heavy oak door slightly ajar. She could hear a low sound from within, a soft moan. He must be exhausted from the ceremony preparations.

She pushed the door open with her hip, a smile on her face. “Gavin, I brought you a surprise.”

The words died in her throat.

The silver tray slipped from her numb fingers. It hit the floor with a deafening crash of shattering crystal. Whiskey pooled on the polished wood, the sweet scent of the ruined tarts mixing with the cloying smell of sex that hung heavy in the air.

He was not alone. He was not tired.

Gavin, her Alpha, her mate, was pressed against his desk, his back to her. A woman was pinned beneath him, her hands clawing at his shoulders, her head thrown back in pleasure. Fiona.

His head snapped up at the sound of the crash. There was no shame in his eyes. No panic. Only cold, hard irritation.

“Emery. What are you doing here?”

Fiona laughed, a low, throaty sound. She lazily pulled up the bodice of her crimson dress. “You should have knocked, darling. You’ve ruined the mood.”

Emery’s voice was a ghost of a whisper. “Gavin?”

“I’m busy,” he said, not moving away from Fiona. He treated her like an interruption, a servant who had walked in at the wrong time.

“What is this?” Emery asked, her gaze fixed on the woman who was now smiling at her, a smug, triumphant light in her eyes.

“This,” Gavin said, finally stepping away from the desk and pulling Fiona possessively to his side, “is my true Luna.”

The words were a physical blow. They knocked the air from her lungs. “Your… true Luna? I’m your mate. The Moon Goddess chose me for you.”

Gavin scoffed, a cruel, ugly sound she had never heard from him before. “The Goddess makes mistakes. Do you really think she would pair an Alpha with a common stray? It was a test, Emery. A test to see if I was strong enough to find a worthy mate on my own.”

Fiona preened under his arm. “And he did.”

“Worthy?” The ice was beginning to form around Emery’s heart, numbing the initial agony. “You think I am unworthy?”

“Look at you,” Gavin sneered, his eyes sweeping over her simple cotton dress. “You have nothing. You brought nothing to this pack.”

“I brought you everything!” The words burst out of her. “This pack was rotting when I arrived. The harvests, the healthy wolves, the clean water. That was me! That was my magic!”

It was her secret, her most precious gift to him. And he was throwing it back in her face.

Fiona let out a theatrical gasp. “Oh, you poor, delusional thing. You actually believe that, don’t you?”

“She thinks her little hedge witch tricks are what saved Silver Creek,” Gavin said, his voice dripping with contempt. “It wasn’t you, Emery. It was never you. It was Fiona. Her radiant aura, her powerful life force. She is the reason we are thriving.”

“My aura is a very rare gift,” Fiona added, her voice sickly sweet. “It nurtures and purifies everything it touches. I could feel the land healing the moment I set foot in this territory.”

Emery stared at them, at the perfect, seamless lie they had constructed. The sheer audacity of it was breathtaking. “Her aura,” she repeated, the words tasting like poison.

“A power a commoner like you could never comprehend,” Gavin said. “A power fit for a queen. It is Fiona who will stand by my side at the ceremony tonight.”

“Tonight?” Emery’s world tilted on its axis. “You would stand before the Goddess and your entire pack and claim this… this liar?”

“I would,” Gavin said, his face a mask of certainty. “I will. The pack needs a real source of power. Not a parasite who has been clinging to me for status.”

“A parasite.” Emery whispered the word. The pain was distant now, a faint echo. It was being replaced by something else. Something cold and hard and ancient.

“I poured my soul into this pack. I gave you three years of my life.”

“You gave me three years of warming my bed,” Gavin corrected her brutally. “You were grateful for the attention. Now, the charity is over.”

He finally looked her in the eye. “Pack your things. I want you gone within the hour. Fiona will be needing your rooms.”

His gaze was utterly devoid of warmth. This was not the man she loved. This was a stranger, a monster wearing his face.

“Gavin, please,” she said, one last, futile appeal to a memory.

“It’s done,” he said, cutting her off. He turned his back on her, pulling Fiona into a deep, passionate kiss right in front of her. A final act of desecration on the grave of their love.

Over his shoulder, Fiona’s eyes met hers. They gleamed with victory. She mouthed a single, silent word.

*Weak.*

Something inside Emery snapped.

The tears she thought would come never did. The screams she thought would tear from her throat died before they were born.

All she felt was a sudden, terrifying calm. A clarity so sharp it cut through all the pain, all the love, all the regret.

She looked at the man she had given everything to. She looked at the woman who had stolen it all.

And she laughed.

It wasn’t a happy sound. It was low, and bitter, and held the promise of winter.

They broke their kiss, startled by the noise. They looked at her as if she had gone mad.

“You’re right,” Emery said, her voice clear and steady, ringing with an authority Gavin had never heard before. “It is done.”

She took one last look at the shattered remnants of her life on his floor.

“You have absolutely no idea what you’ve just lost.”

Without another word, she turned her back on them and walked out of the office, her spine straight, her head held high.

Her wolf, which had sung his name for three long years, was finally silent. Her heart, once so full of love for him, was now a cold, empty void. And in that void, something ancient and powerful began to stir.