Impossible Choice

~Esther.

The grand hall buzzes with anticipation. Distinguished wolves from every corner of the territory mingle beneath crystal chandeliers, their excited whispers filling the air. I weave through the crowd, my emerald gown catching the light as I search for Clark. Today marks both his thirtieth birthday and his official coronation as Alpha of the Sturgeon Moon pack.

But the guest of honor is nowhere to be found.

I check my silver watch—almost time for the ceremony. A knot of worry tightens in my stomach. Yesterday, Clark confessed his anxieties about taking the throne, about living up to his father's legacy. I'd spent hours reassuring him, holding his hands as he voiced his deepest fears. Now his absence speaks volumes.

"Looking for someone?" Eric asks, appearing beside me with two champagne flutes.

"Clark," I reply, accepting the drink. "Have you seen him?"

Eric shakes his head. "Not since this morning. Probably getting ready."

I drain the champagne in one gulp. "I'll check his quarters."

The corridor leading to Clark's wing is eerily quiet compared to the bustling hall. My heels click against marble floors as my mind replays our conversation from three nights ago. The memory makes my heart flutter.

"I don't care what the moon goddess says about mates, Esther," he'd whispered against my hair. "I choose you. Always have, always will."

The rejection of our mate bond had devastated me initially. For werewolves, finding your goddess-chosen mate is everything—the ultimate blessing. When Clark and I discovered I wasn't his true mate, I'd prepared myself for heartbreak. Instead, he proposed, promising to defy tradition for our love.

I approach his door, already rehearsing encouraging words for my nervous Alpha-to-be. But I freeze mid-step when I hear it—a woman's breathless moan followed by Clark's unmistakable growl of pleasure.

"Right there... yes!" His voice, husky with desire.

My blood turns to ice. Surely I'm mistaken. Clark wouldn't—couldn't—do this. Not today. Not ever.

I stand paralyzed, my hand hovering over the doorknob. Part of me wants to flee, to preserve the beautiful illusion of our relationship. But I need to know. I need to see.

The door swings open silently under my trembling hand.

Time stops.

Clark's powerful body moves rhythmically over a woman with honey-blonde hair—my sister Penelope. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her head thrown back in ecstasy. The sunlight streaming through half-drawn curtains illuminates their naked bodies, leaving nothing to imagination.

"You're magnificent," Clark murmurs, trailing kisses down her neck. "My true Luna. My goddess-given mate."

My gasp betrays my presence. They don't immediately separate—instead, Penelope's eyes find mine over Clark's shoulder, her lips curving into a triumphant smile.

"We have company," she purrs, running her fingers through Clark's dark hair.

He turns his head lazily, and what destroys me isn't the act itself but the complete absence of guilt in his expression. Those steel-blue eyes that once looked at me with adoration now regard me with mild annoyance, as if I've interrupted a business meeting rather than caught him betraying our three-year relationship.

"Esther," he acknowledges flatly, finally withdrawing from my sister and reaching for a sheet. "You should have knocked."

Penelope makes no move to cover herself. "Did you need something, little sister? We're rather busy preparing for the announcement."

"Announcement?" The word barely escapes my constricted throat.

Clark sits on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "This isn't how we planned for you to find out. After the coronation, I was going to announce Penelope as my mate and Luna."

"Your mate?" I repeat stupidly, my mind refusing to process what's happening.

"The bond activated last week," Penelope explains with false sympathy. "We tried to fight it, truly we did. But you know how the mate bond works—it's irresistible."

Last week. When Clark was supposedly on a diplomatic mission to the northern packs. When Penelope told me she was visiting an old friend in the city.

"But you proposed to me," I whisper. "Three days ago, you said you didn't care about finding your mate."

Clark sighs heavily, as if my pain is an inconvenience. "I was trying to do the right thing, Esther. I thought I could honor my commitment to you despite the bond. But I can't deny what the goddess has ordained." He glances at Penelope with unmistakable devotion. "She's my destiny."

"And what am I?" My voice breaks. "Your placeholder until something better came along?"

"Don't be dramatic," Penelope chides, finally wrapping herself in the sheet. "You always knew this was a possibility. Every unmated pair does."

Tears blur my vision as the full weight of their betrayal crashes down. My boyfriend and my sister—the two people I trusted most in this world. The sister who raised me after our parents died in the territory wars. The man who promised me forever just three days ago.

"You could have told me," I say, fighting to maintain dignity. "Instead of... this."

"We got carried away," Clark admits without a trace of remorse. "The bond is still new, still powerful."

"Carried away?" I laugh bitterly. "On your coronation day? In our bed?"

"My bed," Clark corrects, his expression hardening. "And as of today, my pack. I didn't want to hurt you, Esther, but facts are facts. Penelope is my mate, which makes her the rightful Luna of Sturgeon Moon."

"And what about your promises? Your declarations of love? Was that all lies?"

Clark stands, his imposing frame blocking the light. "I cared for you, Esther. Part of me still does. But what I feel for Penelope..." He turns to look at her with reverence. "It's transcendent. The goddess chose perfectly."

Penelope stretches languidly, enjoying my pain. "The ceremony starts in thirty minutes, Clark. We should prepare."

"You're right." He nods, then fixes me with a stern gaze. "I expect you to handle this with grace, Esther. For the pack's sake."

"Grace?" I choke out. "You expect me to stand by and watch as you parade my sister as your Luna hours after proposing to me?"

His expression darkens. "I expect you to remember your place. I may have indulged your disrespect as my girlfriend, but as your Alpha, I require your obedience."

"Clark—"

"It's Alpha Clark now," he snaps, grabbing my arm and steering me toward the door. "And Penelope is your Luna. You will show her the respect her position demands, or you will face pack discipline. Are we clear?"

I stare at him, searching for any trace of the man I loved. There's nothing—just cold authority and impatience.

"Crystal clear, Alpha," I whisper, jerking my arm free.

"Good." He softens slightly. "Take some time to compose yourself. Then join the celebration like the strong wolf I know you are."

The door closes in my face with finality. Through the thick wood, I hear Penelope's delighted laughter and Clark's low murmur. The sound of their resumed passion follows me down the corridor as I flee, my heart shattered beyond recognition.

For the first time since our parents' death, I am truly alone.