The music swelled, laughter spilling across the grand hall in waves, a celebration of love, of unity, of the perfect future Lilith and Luke had secured for themselves.
Celine felt none of it.
She kept her shoulders straight, her chin high, her lips pressed into an unreadable line as she nodded at the passing nobility, playing the role expected of Leon’s honored guest. But the moment she found an opening, the moment the eyes on her drifted elsewhere, she slipped away.
The air outside the banquet hall was thick and suffocating, but at least it wasn’t filled with the sound of Lilith’s triumphant laughter or Luke’s voice repeating vows that should have been meant for her.
Her pulse hammered as she braced herself against the cool stone wall, willing herself to breathe through the tightness in her chest.
This was fine.
She was fine.
She had convinced herself of it for weeks, had spent every waking moment burying whatever feelings still lurked beneath her skin. But here, now, standing in the place where she had once imagined a future with him, the weight of it all pressed down, squeezing until she could barely take in air.
And then she heard a voice. It was soft and familiar.
“Celine.”
She turned, her body going rigid as she met the eyes she had once trusted more than anything.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Luke gaze swept over her, taking in the elegant dress, the intricate gold embroidery, the way the world had shifted beneath her feet in the time they had spent apart.
The way Leon’s claim clung to her skin.
“You… came back.” His voice was careful, uncertain.
Celine forced down the tremor in her hands. “Not by choice.”
Luke exhaled, something flickering behind his eyes, something hesitant. He took a step closer—too close—but stopped himself.
“I didn’t know,” he said finally.
Didn’t know what? That she was alive? That she was suffering? That she was supposed to be his? She didn’t ask, because she already knew the answer to that.
He had known from the beginning. And yet, here he was, looking at her like she was a ghost, like he wasn’t sure if he was seeing something real or something he had buried a long time ago.
His voice was quieter this time. Softer. “You’re different.”
Something inside her fractured. Because he was wrong, she wasn’t different. She was the same girl who had trusted the bond between them, who had waited for him, who had believed he was her mate. And yet he chose Lilith.
Celine sucked in a breath, straightening. Forcing herself to be steel instead of breaking glass.
“Yes,” she said, her voice flat and distant. “I am.”
Luke flinched, just barely, his throat bobbing as if he had something more to say. But Celine didn’t care. Not anymore.
Before he could speak, before she could let herself unravel beneath the weight of everything they should have been, she turned and walked away.
She didn’t look back, not until she was far enough, until the music became nothing but a distant hum, until the night swallowed her whole.
And then she broke down. Her fingers dug into the stone wall, her breath ragged, uneven. Pain seared through her, curling hot and merciless through her ribs, as if her own heart was trying to claw its way out.
She had thought Luke was hers. She had thought fate meant something. She was wrong.