The End

Lyra POV

The deafening sound of applause surrounded me from every direction, sharp, rhythmic, and incredibly disorienting. Bright, colorful confetti floated slowly through the air, catching the brilliant light of the massive crystal chandeliers suspended high above us.

I blinked hard, my chest heaving erratically as my mind violently struggled to process the overwhelming scene in front of me. I looked down in absolute confusion to find myself gripping a beautiful, heavy bouquet of fresh white roses. My fingers were wrapped tightly around the thick green stems. I wasn't dead. I was standing right in the middle of a highly familiar, opulent banquet hall, surrounded by the smiling faces of my friends and family.

Kneeling gracefully before me was Varn.

He looked entirely different from the cold, ruthless monster I remembered. His face lacked the hardened, cruel lines of the Alpha King. He was a much younger, softer version of the man who had just orchestrated my murder. His lips were curved into a charming, hopeful smile as he paused in the middle of sliding a cold, heavy diamond engagement ring onto my left hand.

I stared at him in unadulterated shock. My pulse hammered relentlessly in my ears, drowning out the music and the cheering crowd. Was I somehow reliving his marriage proposal? Why was I here? The phantom burn of bitter acid still scorched the sensitive lining of my throat. My stomach churned violently, twisting in knots and threatening to empty itself directly onto his expensive leather shoes.

The dazzling glint of the diamond ring blurred in my vision, and suddenly, all I could see was the small glass vial of poison. The joyous applause echoing around the hall twisted, morphing seamlessly into Vesper's cruel, mocking laughter.

My mind ruthlessly yanked me back to the horrific reality I had just been ripped away from. The royal palace room.

Just moments ago—or perhaps lifetimes ago—Varn had not been kneeling with a ring in hand. He had been standing before me, cold, distant, and immovable, with his arms wrapped securely around Vesper. My best friend.

They hadn't even tried to hide their vile affair from me anymore. Vesper had leaned against his chest, one arm wrapped affectionately around his waist while her other hand rested deliberately over her lower belly.

She had looked at me and smiled coyly, a sickeningly sweet expression painted across her face. "I'm starting to show," she had announced proudly, turning her adoring gaze up to Varn's strong jawline. "Your baby is growing so fast."

Hearing those specific words had been like a brutal, physical blow to the sternum. It felt like something deep inside my chest had snapped completely, severing the bond I thought we shared.

"How could you?" I had asked them in pure, breathless disbelief, my voice cracking under the crushing weight of their betrayal. "How could both of you betray me like this?"

Varn hadn't looked remotely guilty. His eyes had turned to mine with a cold expression, utterly devoid of the warmth I thought characterized our marriage. "I haven't betrayed you," he stated flatly, regarding me with obvious distaste. "Vesper is my fated mate. I've known ever since my first shift when I was only eighteen years old."

The revelation had utterly shattered my world. Varn and I had known each other our entire lives. We were childhood sweethearts. I had been right beside him on the day of his first shift; we had celebrated that monumental milestone together. Through all our years of history, I had never once suspected that he had found his fated mate, let alone that it was my very best friend.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" my voice shook violently as the devastating reality sank into my bones. "If I had known that you two were fated mates, I would have willingly stepped aside."

Vesper had sneered at my devastated tears, her sweet, innocent facade dropping instantly. "Because Varn's pack isn't as powerful as yours," she explained, her tone dripping with arrogant condescension. "And I have four siblings, so I'm not able to inherit anything. We needed your family's name and massive resources to win the Alpha King selection. But now that he has succeeded and taken the throne, that need is completely over."

Varn had looked at me as if I were nothing more than a broken tool. "Your use has run out," he stated coldly.

He deliberately released Vesper from his embrace and took a menacing step toward me. Reaching into his tailored pocket, he pulled out a small glass vial and held it out directly to my face.

"Don't make things any more difficult than they have to be," he ordered, his voice devoid of any lingering affection. "Drink the poison yourself. That's an order from your king."

I had stood faithfully by his side through thick and thin. I had paved his way from a lowly alpha to become the sovereign Alpha King. We had been married for three long years, and this was how he repaid my loyalty?

I shook my head slowly, desperately wishing I could wake up from this bizarre nightmare. "I am the Luna Queen of this country," I firmly reminded him, my voice frantic but defiant. "No one can execute me without a valid, proven reason. Not even you."

Varn merely curled his lips into a sickening smirk. "Normally, that would be true. But your family has colluded with dangerous rogues to betray me. Or at least, that is what's been reported to me, so I have already fabricated the evidence. I have every right to execute you. And don't worry, they will soon be executed alongside you."

"It isn't true!" I had shouted, hot tears stinging my eyes and streaming fast down my face. "I don't believe a word of it, Varn. I vow to investigate your vicious lies!"

Before he could lunge at me to enforce his twisted will, Vesper sweetly intervened. She gently grabbed his forearm, stopping his advance, and took the vial of poison from his hand. "There's no need to become violent," she purred. "Why don't you return to your kingly duties so you don't have to deal with this? After all, the king doesn't have time to waste. I'll handle this. Lyra is my best friend; I'm sure I can reason with her."

Varn leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips, completely ignoring my sobbing form. "I'll leave it to you then," he murmured. Then, without sparing me a single backward glance, he turned and walked out of the room.

The moment the heavy wooden door clicked shut, leaving us entirely alone, Vesper's face twisted into an unrecognizable mask of pure, venomous hatred. She stepped forcefully into my personal space.

"Varn has always loved me," she taunted, her eyes gleamed with wicked malice. "You should know that. Even on your wedding night, after you got drunk and passed out, Varn left your bed and came straight to my room."

My stomach churned violently at the sickening confession. My husband had spent our wedding night inside my best friend. But Vesper wasn't finished obliterating my world.

"Ever since he was crowned king, we've been waiting for an opportunity to kill you and the rest of your family," she confessed, her voice dripping with poison. "In fact, we couldn't wait at all. That is the exact reason Varn murdered your father."

"No!" I shouted a desperate denial through my uncontrollable tears. It couldn't be true. My fiercely protective father, murdered by the man I loved?

Vesper laughed cruelly, thoroughly enjoying my profound agony. "Did you truly think it was a mere coincidence that your perfectly healthy father suddenly fell ill right when Varn's pack fell on hard times and needed full access to your pack's resources?"

I had so many questions buzzing through my chaotic head, but the excruciating pain in my heart was far too much for me to even form the words. I clutched my chest, feeling my rapid heartbeat beneath my fingertips. The truth hit me like a physical strike. They hadn't just stolen my husband and my throne; they had ruthlessly slaughtered my father.

"I just had to let you know. You are no longer the spoiled alpha daughter who gets everything she wants," Vesper declared, a demonic smile spreading across her face. "And I no longer have time to waste on you."

Without any warning, she violently lunged forward. I tried desperately to fight her off, grabbing her wrists and thrashing with all my remaining might to resist, but I was blinded by tears and entirely too late. She physically overpowered me, forcing the glass vial past my teeth and into my open mouth.

The intensely bitter liquid instantly coated my tongue and burned its way down my throat like pure liquid fire. My legs gave out from under me, and I collapsed helplessly to the cold floor.

Looking up, my rapidly fading vision captured her demonic, victorious smile standing over me. As my vision slowly faded to pitch black, I silently made a promise to the Moon Goddess: *If I ever meet them again in another life, I will make them pay dearly.*

...

The thunderous, lively applause of the banquet hall suddenly snapped me sharply back to the present reality. The agonizing memories of my brutal murder were so fresh it felt as if the lethal poison was still actively running through my veins, but my body felt entirely perfectly healthy. The air didn't smell like blood, betrayal, and death; it smelled like expensive perfume, celebratory champagne, and fresh flowers.

I had actually opened my eyes fully expecting to see the bleak afterlife. Instead, I had somehow been reborn.

Varn, completely oblivious to the turbulent storm of memories raging inside my mind, stood up from his knee. He flashed that same bright, manipulative smile that had successfully fooled me for years and moved forward, his arms outstretched to embrace me.

Driven by pure survival instinct and the raw, fresh trauma of his fatal betrayal, I quickly stepped backward. My heels clicked sharply against the polished floor, putting me completely out of his reach.

I wouldn't let his filthy hands touch my skin. I hated this man with every single fiber of my being. The absolute devastation and betrayal I had felt just moments ago rapidly shifted, transforming into a pure, unadulterated shock that instantly ignited into fiery, burning vengeance.

Varn paused, a genuinely confused look crossing his handsome features. His brow furrowed as he reached out his hands for me again, silently urging me to play the part of the ecstatic, compliant bride-to-be.

Instead, I gripped the heavy bouquet of white roses with both hands, forcefully lifted it up, and smashed it directly into his face.