Chapter 7
MIA
I should never have come,
I stood in the shadows, heart beating out of my chest, my breath barely making it past the Jump in my throat. My fingers curled around the fabric of my coat, trying to ground myself, trying to push away the foolish, aching hope that had taken root the moment I saw him.
Derek.
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Even from a distance, his presence was undeniable–tall, commanding, impossibly familiar. He had always been in an anchor in the storm of my life, the force that pulled me in when I felt as though I might break free.
And now, here I was, hidden among the mourners at my own funeral, waiting for something I couldn’t even name.
For a second–for one fleeting second–I thought maybe, just maybe, I had meant something to him.
Then she appeared.
Cassandra.
She moved in behind him with the effortless grace of someone who knew exactly where she belonged. Close. Too close.
Her hand brushed against his arm as she leaned in, whispering something against the shell of his ear.
And of course the cameras caught it.
Reporters swarmed them, eager to twist the moment into a story. I could hear their voices over the murmuring crowd, their greedy excitement at the fresh angle.
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“Alpha Derek, why were you late?”
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Cassandra didn’t hesitate. She turned her face toward the flashing lights, wearing the perfect expression of quiet understanding, of knowing sadness.
“He was with me,” she said softly, as if reluctant to admit it.
The crowd chuckled knowingly.
The sound sent a sharp dart of pain through my chest.
I had been so, so stupid..
He hadn’t wasted any time, had he? The reason he was late–the reason I had stood here,
trembling like an idiot, waiting for some sign that he mourned me–was because he had
been with Cassandra.
I felt the last remnants of my foolish hope collapse under the weight of reality.
Derek didn’t care that I was dead.
He hadn’t mourned. He hadn’t suffered. He had simply moved on, eager to return to the
woman who had always been waiting for him.
I turned without another glance, shoving my way through the crowd. My legs moved on instinct, carrying me as far from that scene as possible, as far from him as possible.
I had my answer.
Derek had never loved me.
And he never would.
DEREK
The funeral should have started an hour ago.
I knew I should have been there already, standing before the pack, offering empty words about a woman I had convinced myself I didn’t need.
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Instead, I sat in my office, staring at the floor, unable to move,
I pictured her in the bed we’d shared, her thick auburn hair curled on the pillow like ropes of copper. Her long shapely legs twisted in the sheets, grey–blue eyes looking up at me with excitement. Hope.
But she was gone.
Mia was gone.
I had spent weeks trying to pretend she had never mattered. That her rejection was just a momentary lapse in judgement. That she would regret leaving and come crawling back.
That the person who’d been seen in that terrible car accident had been someone else.
And then the news came.
She had died. On our wedding day.
The moment the people from Cassandra’s small pack brought the proof–the grainy image of a broken body–I felt something inside me shatter. My gaze had locked onto one small, undeniable detail: a faint scar along her brow bone. I had traced it once with my fingertips, wondering where she’d gotten it.
Mia.
I had lost her. Truly, irreversibly lost her.
And only then did I understand–too late, always too late–that I had loved her.
My wolf had known all along. Erebus had clawed at my mind, whispering his unease, his desperate need to be near her. I had ignored him. Suppressed him.
When I was with her, I had convinced myself that my future was meant to be spent with someone like Cassandra–someone safe and predictable. Someone the pack had already accepted.
Now that future meant nothing.
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I had failed Mia.
And I had let everyone else fail her, too.
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Joe and Caroline had been quick to celebrate her death, to whisper in my ear that this was
for the best.
“Mia was a rogue,” they reminded me. “A rogue who rejected your fated bond on your wedding day. Now you can focus on Cassandra–the true Luna of this pack.”
Their words sickened me.
Had she suffered in my pack? Had she felt isolated, unwanted? I had been so consumed with my own torment, my own resistance to the bond, that I had never truly seen what she
had endured.
I should have protected her.
Instead, I had let her slip through my fingers.
“Enough!” I had yelled at my Betas, ordering them to put together a funeral with all the pomp, circumstance, and honor due a Luna.
And now here I sat, lingering in the silence, unwilling to face what came next.
Cassandra found me like this.
“Derek,” she murmured, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You insisted on this funeral. You spared no expense. You have to go.”
I didn’t respond.
She crouched beside me, lowering her voice. She was trying to be careful and patient, but I could hear the irritation bleeding through. “The pack needs to see you. You’re the Alpha.
You can’t ignore this.”
I clenched my jaw, staring at my reflection in the window. I looked hollow.
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“I’ll go with you,” Cassandra said. “Come with me. Let me stand beside you.”
I should have refused, but I was exhausted. Numb. And so I let her guide me to the car, let her sit beside me as we drove to a funeral I had no right to attend.
The moment we arrived, the cameras descended.
I hated this. The spectacle of it all. I wanted to be alone with my grief, to mourn the woman
I had lost in silence.
But before I could brush them off, Cassandra stepped forward, smiling softly.
“He was with me,” she told them.
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I barely registered the words. I barely registered anything–until my gaze caught something in the distance. Inside me, Erebus sat up. We sniffed the air eagerly, but there were too many people. Too many scents.
There was a woman.
A scarf around her head, dark sunglasses over her eyes. She was slipping away through the crowd, moving with quiet urgency, as if she didn’t want to be seen.
Something in my chest tightened painfully, and Erebus gave one sharp yip.
Mia.
It couldn’t be.
She was gone. She was dead.
And yet-
I took a step forward, my pulse pounding in my ears. I needed to see her face, needed to-
Casandra caught my arm.
“Derek,” she murmured, reminding me of the cameras, the eyes watching. The press, the pack. Everyone.
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I shook myself free of her, but by the time I turned back, the woman was gone.
An illusion. A cruel trick of my exhausted mind. I had seen what I wanted to see.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to believe that that’s all it was.
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Because if I let myself hope–if I let myself believe for even a second that Mia was still out there…
I would never stop searching for her.
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