Page 68 of Ruthless Moon

I know that statement is a lie, but it’s all I’ve got.

A rattle at the top of the staircase draws my attention. Happily, I turn away from Noah, my gaze drawn to the sight of Rachel and Gen walking down the stairs, each clutching a large duffel bag. Emma trails right behind, cradling a long white garment bag.

The wedding dress again. Fuck.

My throat constricts.

Am I really going to watchmymate walk down the aisle and marry my cousin?

Fuck.

I roll my neck, cracking a few vertebrae, and head toward my truck.

Gen avoids making eye contact. Not even Rachel speaks to me, her usual bubbly energy subdued and sad.

Noah makes an innuendo-filled crack about Aiden getting his hands on her tonight.

Nobody reacts.

The women keep walking like he’s not even there.

The silence is eerie. There’s no celebration today for any of us.

I slide into my truck, my fingers curling around the cold, familiar grip of the steering wheel. I start the engine and maneuver onto the street, my gaze solidly fixed on Rachel’s car. We move slowly through the streets—six blocks to the town square.

Colorful banners flutter in the early morning breeze, the white chairs and the floral arch emanate happiness and joy, worlds apart from the mourning in my heart.

Rachel parks her car and I park mine only one street over. They unload their bags and quickly disappear into the nearby dressing tent.

Another vehicle pulls next to Rachel’s, and my pulse quickens. It’s Aiden.

I start to cross the road, but pause when Meredith emerges from the ladies’ dressing tent and intercepts him. I halt mid-stride, rooted to my spot on the sidewalk.

Aiden’s clenched fists and Meredith’s sharp gestures cut through the morning tranquility. I can’t make out the words, but the tension radiating from their body language is palpable.

As quickly as it had begun, the argument ends. Meredith turns abruptly. She walks back to the dressing tent, leaving Aiden alone, simmering with residual anger.

I move to approach him, but the heat in his angry gaze stops me cold. The conversation I avoided yesterday is happening now.

“How could you not tell me she’s your fated match, Liam?” A mix of betrayal and anguish lace his words.

My heart pounds heavily in my chest. I know I’ve hurt him by lying. Damaged the trust between us. I honestly thought it was the best option. “There’s too much at stake. Gen and I both agreed.”

His response is a low, threatening growl. “I’ve lost a mate before, Liam. You don’t understand what this will do to both of you.” His words ring true, a chilling confirmation of my own fears.

“This is what has to happen. I’m leaving after the wedding, Aiden. I’ll be gone and you can take care of her and the valley and the coven.” The words taste like ash in my mouth, but I force them out, a desperate attempt to convince both of us.

The pain is a jagged, steel blade slicing through my chest. I want to rip my clothes away and run in the face of what I know will be an unbearable loss. But I stand tall and face my cousin’s scrutinizing gaze. His lips press together into thin lines.

We stand there, wordless, until he finally nods, the motion almost imperceptible. “Very well.” Reluctance darkens his voice. But I also see resolve, which is what makes him a good alpha. An alpha I don’t deserve. He turns on his heel and strides away, leaving me alone with my bleeding broken heart.

For a moment, I’m lost in the hollow silence he leaves behind. Even though the square around me bustles with life, with the trappings of a joyous occasion, all I feel is an empty abyss yawning wide, waiting to devour me. My heart clenches at the sight of the dressing tent and the obvious lack of laughing and joy.

People are walking all around me, but all I want to hear isher. I listen for her unique heartbeat and hold my breath, savoring the connection between us—slight as it is. It will only remain another hour or so.

Once she’s bonded to Aiden I’ll lose that connection to her and all that will be left is pain instead of hope.

A cold, hard object presses against the small of my back, ripping me from my focus. A shiver snakes down my spine, and my wolf’s hackles rise in instant alarm. I don’t need to turn to know the object is a gun, nor do I need to look to know it’s Noah holding it.

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