Chapter 2 The Choice

• Darius’s POV
• Mira’s laugh follows me all the way down the corridor.
• She’s practically skipping behind me, her fingers brushing the back of my arm like she thinks she’s already claimed me. Maybe she has.
• The door to my quarters clicks shut behind us. I don’t speak. I head for the shelf and pour a glass of something dark—whiskey, I think. Doesn’t matter. I toss it back in one breath.
• “Well, that was dramatic,” Mira purrs, kicking off her heels. “I think half the pack wet themselves. Especially when you said unfit.” She makes a show of twirling, silk dress flaring like she’s already Luna.
• She’s not.
• Not yet.
• I toss the glass down, jaw tight. “It needed to be done.”
• Mira pads closer. “Of course it did.”
• She places a hand on my chest. Smooth, practiced. She’s always known how to use touch to her advantage. That’s what started this, wasn’t it?
• Not love. Not fate.
• Just a whisper in the right ear, a suggestion at the right time.
• She’s too wild, Alpha.
• You need a Luna who calms the pack, not sets it on fire.
• Think about your legacy.
• And I did.
• Raelin was born for war, not politics. Her white wolf may have been rare, but rarity doesn’t mean stability. It means danger.
• Still, when I looked at her on that altar tonight, glowing under moonlight, something in me cracked. For a second.
• Then I saw Mira step forward, and I shut the door on the part of me that wanted to run after Raelin.
• Mira presses closer. “You did the right thing.”
• Did I?
• My silence makes her bold. She slides her hands up my shoulders, playing with the edge of my jacket, her voice going breathy. “She would’ve kept you on the battlefield. Kept your blood hot. That’s not what an Alpha needs anymore.”
• I stiffen.
• “She’s chaos. You need peace. Control. You need someone like—”
• “You?” I cut in, brow lifting.
• Mira’s smile doesn’t falter. “Exactly.”
• She moves again, fingers trailing down my chest, teasing the buckle of my belt.
• “I’ve waited so long for this,” she murmurs, voice thick with hunger. “For you. I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it. But now—” her hands rise to the straps of her dress— “you’re mine.”
• The fabric slides down her shoulders, baring smooth skin. She moves with precision, every inch a performance. I watch her, unmoving, until the silk pools at her feet and she steps toward me wearing nothing but confidence.
• “You’ve been holding back,” she whispers. “But you don’t have to anymore.”
• Her hand moves to the front of my pants.
• I should stop her.
• But I don’t.
• I should be thinking about Mira—her body, her lips, the way she’s looking at me like she’s won.
• But I see silver instead.
• Braided through dark hair. Moonflowers down a bare spine. Eyes like frost.
• Raelin.
• No.
• She’s gone now.
• I made that choice.
• “Darius,” Mira breathes, and I feel her mouth at my throat, her body pressing against mine.
• This is what I wanted. A clean break. No bond. No fight. Just Mira and peace and obedience.
• Then why the hell does it feel like I’m choking?
• Mira slips her hand lower, and I groan—half pleasure, half frustration. I grab her hips and turn her fast, backing her toward the bed.
• Her laugh is a moan. She loves that.
• I push her down onto the mattress, and she drags me down with her, lips parting in a breathless whimper. I don’t kiss her. I take her jaw in my hand, thumb dragging across her lower lip.
• “You want to be Luna,” I mutter, voice rough. “Then act like it.”
• Mira’s legs wrap around my waist instantly. “Show me how.”
• I grab her wrists, pin them above her head. Her body arches like a bow, breasts pressing against my chest. Her scent’s sweet, cloying, nothing like Raelin’s wild, earthy pull—but right now, I need distraction, not memory.
• Mira shifts under me, grinding her hips up against the hard length in my pants. I let out a low growl. She smirks.
• “I want to feel you,” she whispers, voice dripping sin. “I want you to ruin me for her.”
• My fingers drag down her inner thigh, slow and firm, before sliding between her legs.
• Already wet.
• “Fuck,” I breathe, leaning in to bite her throat. Not claiming. Just punishing.
• She moans, loud and needy, as I slide two fingers into her and her body clenches around me like she’s been waiting forever.
• “I’m going to make you scream,” I growl against her ear.
• She moans again—high, helpless.
• And just as I thrust into her—