16 The first Nighthom Breakfast
Mara
We walked to the right wing in silence. The kind that didn’t ask to be broken.
Darian wasn’t at the table. Martha was.
Her gaze landed on me like a curse. Cold, calculated, almost smug. I didn’t flinch. Not anymore. Not now that I knew she was the one who orchestrated this mess-this sham of a marriage, this rerouting of my life. The woman had no shame, only strategy. And the crime? Being poor. That was enough to make me disposable.
If I’d been the one pregnant by Darian, she’d have dragged me to the nearest clinic herself. No doubt.
In some twisted way, I was grateful I hadn’t ended up with her son. As much as it hurt, avoiding that as a mother-in-law
was a small mercy.
“Good morning, Luna Nighthorn,” I said, voice flat, cold. She didn’t reply. I didn’t care.
Lucian served my food-carefully, politely. It was a small gesture, but it didn’t move me. Not really. It was for show. All of
this was theater.
We sat side by side, and then, without warning, he slipped his hand onto my thigh under the table and gave it a gentle
squeeze.
I stiffened.
It wasn’t threatening-just possessive, maybe even protective-but it still made my heart race. Not from fear. From
confusion.
I didn’t want mixed signals. I didn’t want signals at all. My body was already responding in ways I wished it wouldn’t.
Hormones didn’t understand boundaries.
And my toys hadn’t arrived yet.
Alpha Vander entered a moment later, tall and stern, and we both stood to greet him. His presence was commanding,
almost theatrical.
Once he sat, we followed suit. I noticed Martha rolling her eyes, like a teenager forced to play nice at dinner.
“Mara, how was your night?” Alpha Vander asked.
I forced a smile. It was paper-thin. “We were tired. We fell asleep.”
Martha laughed. One of those sharp, mocking laughs that cuts more than it amuses.
“You fell asleep, you mean,” she said, eyes locked on me like she was daring me to lie again. “I heard when Lucian left. And when he came back. Must’ve gone to see his girlfriend.”
Her words were barbed, meant to humiliate him-and me.
Lucian tensed, and I felt it beside me.
“He went to get me tampons and toiletries,” I said quickly, voice cool but firm.
Martha smirked. “And maybe stopped by his mistress’s house while he was at it. Tina Livingston-she’s got him wrapped around her finger. That girl’s going to drain him dry.”
“Enough, Martha!” Alpha Vander snapped, his tone cracking through the room like a whip.
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16 The first Nighthom Breakfast
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“Leave Lucian and his wife alone. Whatever happens between them is their business. Why don’t you focus on your own son? Darian’s got a rich girl pregnant-and we both know that’s what you’ve always wanted. Go clean up that mess.”
Silence fell. Not peace. Just silence.
I didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Part of me pitied Darian. The other part knew he’d done this to himself. He played games, and now the consequences were real.
We finished breakfast with stiff smiles and hollow pleasantries. Then we left, walking back to Lucian’s wing-two people
trapped in a life neither of us had chosen, putting on a performance for a family that only cared about power and
appearances.
“Thank you, Mara,” Lucian said.
I didn’t answer.
What was the point?
I’d begun to understand why both he and Darian were such emotional wrecks. With a mother like Martha, they never
stood a chance. She didn’t nurture; she controlled. She didn’t raise sons-she raised survivors. But that didn’t excuse the
damage they left behind.
“I know you’ve laid out your rules,” I said coolly. “But the least you can do is respect them.”
He didn’t reply. Of course not.
A knock broke the silence. The butler entered, balancing four neatly stacked boxes in his arms.
“Delivery for Mrs. Mara Nighthorn,” he announced.
“On the bed, please,” I said. He obeyed, gave a polite nod, and left.
Lucian’s brow rose slightly. “You did some shopping?”
I didn’t look at him. “While you were busy with your girlfriend, I had to find something to keep me entertained.”
His face tensed, just a flicker of guilt or maybe regret. I wasn’t sure anymore.
“I should be the one buying you things,” he said quietly.
I held back a laugh. What would he have bought me? Perfume? Jewelry? Lingerie I’d never wear?
I doubted he’d be keen to fund the kind of purchases I just made.
Lucian returned a few minutes later, fully dressed in tailored slacks and a crisp shirt. Every inch the respectable heir. Every
inch someone else’s.
“I need to take care of a few things at the office,” he said, grabbing his watch from the dresser. “I’ll be back later. We’ll go
hunting tomorrow morning.”
I nodded. Empty agreement.
We both knew what “office” meant.
Tina Livingston was waiting.
He wouldn’t be back tonight. Maybe not even tomorrow. And there was no point pretending otherwise.
The strange part was how numb I’d gone. I didn’t even feel anger anymore. Just this quiet, cold disappointment that sat in my chest like a stone. It wasn’t even about love-there was none of that between us. It was about dignity. About being left behind. About being treated like a placeholder in someone else’s life.
I waited until he left. Then I opened the boxes.
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16 The first Nighthorn Breakfast
A small grin tugged at the edge of my mouth.
+8 Points >
There they were-neatly packed, beautifully designed, discreet and personal. I went through each toy like I was stocking a new kind of armor. Not for seduction. Not for anyone else’s gaze. Just for me. For comfort. For survival.
I tucked them away carefully. Picked one and slid it under my pillow for the night.
If this was how it was going to be-him off in someone else’s arms, me left alone-I would at least make the solitude
mine.
Let him play husband in public.
I’d figure out how to be my own lover in private.
I must’ve dozed off not long after dinner. When I woke, the room was dimly lit, the television casting a soft, blue glow across the ceiling. It hummed in the background like a forgotten thought. I reached for the remote and clicked it off. Silence returned, heavy and familiar.
Lucian wasn’t in his room. I didn’t need to check-l already knew where he was. Probably tangled in someone else’s sheets, whispering promises that had never belonged to me.
I headed to the shower. The water was warm, but it didn’t soothe the tension beneath my skin. Something twisted inside me-frustration, loneliness, desire. It was all tangled up. It was too quiet. Too still. I crawled back into bed, restless.
At first, I reached for the vibrator, but changed my mind. Fingers felt more… personal. Raw. Like I needed to remind myself
that I was mine.
I let go.
My breath hitched as my fingers moved over my skin, drawing circles, coaxing pleasure from a place that had gone too long untouched. The moans slipped out, quiet but sharp. I didn’t hold back. I didn’t have to. I was alone-free to fall apart
in my own space.
As the orgasm crested, I reached for the dildo, needing something more to calm the aching clench inside me. I didn’t go deep-didn’t dare cross that line-but just enough to fill the edge of emptiness. It felt right, and for a moment, I forgot
everything else.
The tension slowly unwound from my body. Relief flooded in.
Then I heard it.
A sneeze.
I froze.
The blood drained from my face as I turned slowly toward Lucian’s room. Squinting into the shadows, I saw him. On the
bed. Still, Breathing.
He was here.
He had been here the whole time.
My heart pounded. Had he been sleeping? Pretending to? I wasn’t quiet-he had to have heard me. Had to have seen.
People don’t sneeze in their sleep. Not like that.
Heat rushed to my cheeks. Shame followed fast behind, wrapping around me like a noose. I pulled the blanket over myself, as if that could undo what he’d witnessed.
Could I face him in the morning?
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< 16 The first Nighthorn Breakfast
Could I walk beside him in the woods and pretend nothing happened?
God, I wasn’t sure.
This marriage was never supposed to mean anything. But this? This changed something.
And I wasn’t ready for it.
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