Stand-In Luna’s Rise：Bound in My Twin's Name, Freed in My Own - Chapter 15: Chapter 15
You are reading Stand-In Luna’s Rise：Bound in My Twin's Name, Freed in My Own, Chapter 15: Chapter 15. Read more chapters of Stand-In Luna’s Rise：Bound in My Twin's Name, Freed in My Own.
Delilah followed Theron into his office, her voice still thick with tears: "Theron, if Sylvae really hates me this much, maybe I should just leave..."
Theron rubbed his temples, trying to keep his tone level: "Don't read into it. She's probably just having a rough day."
"Why is she having a rough day? Is it because I'm here?" Delilah's tears kept falling. "I know I shouldn't have gotten between you..."
Theron poured himself a whiskey without answering.
Seeing his silence, Delilah sobbed harder: "You don't want me anymore, do you? Nobody in this world gives a damn about me, and if you throw me away too, what's the point of life?"
Before he could stop her, she lunged toward the floor-to-ceiling window.
Theron moved lightning-fast, catching her wrist and sending expensive whiskey splashing across the hardwood.
"Cut the dramatics!" His voice carried barely leashed fury.
Delilah melted into his arms, whimpering: "Then could you just... like you used to..." She looked up with red, swollen eyes. "At least make her back off? What she did today really messed me up."
Theron was quiet for a long moment, then grudgingly nodded.
Just as they reached Sylvae's bedroom door, the front door chime echoed through the house.
The house manager rushed over, looking freaked: "Alpha, there are Territory Wardens at the door..."
Before he could finish, three uniformed Wardens walked in—the neutral enforcement arm of the Council of Elders that handled inter-pack disputes across the Northern Territory.
Sylvae stood at the top of the stairs in a robe, her hair loose around her shoulders.
"I called them." Her voice was ice-cold.
Theron's face went thunderous: "Sylvae!"
Sylvae calmly pushed up her sleeve, revealing nasty purple bruises covering her forearm: "I'm filing assault charges against Delilah Vexley under Territory law."
She looked directly at the Wardens. "Physical evidence right here."
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Theron grabbed her wrist. "She was just playing around!"
"Playing around?" Sylvae's laugh was sharp as she yanked her arm free. "Wow, guess Alpha Theron has a very unique definition of jokes."
Delilah went pale, stammering: "I wasn't trying to... I mean, I just..."
"Then apologize. Or we can let the Council sort this out."
Under the Wardens' watchful stares, Delilah had no choice but to swallow her pride and duck her head: "I... I'm sorry..."
After the Wardens left, Sylvae disappeared into her room without another word.
Theron stood there, his jaw clenched tight—
Was he imagining things, or had Sylvae become a total stranger?
Near midnight, Theron knocked on Sylvae's door.
Sylvae answered leaning against the doorframe, her silk robe loose at the collar, showing off her collarbones.
She held a glass of red wine, asking with lazy indifference: "What?"
Theron's eyes lingered on her for a heartbeat: "What the hell's been wrong with you lately?"
He tried to soften his approach. "Delilah's just crashing here temporarily. You're my Luna—what more do you need?"
"Theron." Sylvae cut him off, her lips curving in a cold smile. She took a slow sip of wine. "So you get to keep your perfect Luna while playing house with your mistress? Must be nice having it both ways."
"That's not—" Theron started, but SLAM—the door shut hard in his face.
Theron stood in the hallway, his expression dark.
This wasn't the same she-wolf who used to hang on his every word—when the hell had she become so impossible to handle?
CRASH!
Down the hall, an antique vase exploded against the wall, shards scattering everywhere.
Delilah was shaking with rage, sweeping everything off her dresser in a violent tantrum.
"Sylvae Fenwick!" She gritted her teeth as she spoke the name. "You messed with the wrong one!"
Theron rubbed his temples, trying to keep his tone level: "Don't read into it. She's probably just having a rough day."
"Why is she having a rough day? Is it because I'm here?" Delilah's tears kept falling. "I know I shouldn't have gotten between you..."
Theron poured himself a whiskey without answering.
Seeing his silence, Delilah sobbed harder: "You don't want me anymore, do you? Nobody in this world gives a damn about me, and if you throw me away too, what's the point of life?"
Before he could stop her, she lunged toward the floor-to-ceiling window.
Theron moved lightning-fast, catching her wrist and sending expensive whiskey splashing across the hardwood.
"Cut the dramatics!" His voice carried barely leashed fury.
Delilah melted into his arms, whimpering: "Then could you just... like you used to..." She looked up with red, swollen eyes. "At least make her back off? What she did today really messed me up."
Theron was quiet for a long moment, then grudgingly nodded.
Just as they reached Sylvae's bedroom door, the front door chime echoed through the house.
The house manager rushed over, looking freaked: "Alpha, there are Territory Wardens at the door..."
Before he could finish, three uniformed Wardens walked in—the neutral enforcement arm of the Council of Elders that handled inter-pack disputes across the Northern Territory.
Sylvae stood at the top of the stairs in a robe, her hair loose around her shoulders.
"I called them." Her voice was ice-cold.
Theron's face went thunderous: "Sylvae!"
Sylvae calmly pushed up her sleeve, revealing nasty purple bruises covering her forearm: "I'm filing assault charges against Delilah Vexley under Territory law."
She looked directly at the Wardens. "Physical evidence right here."
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Theron grabbed her wrist. "She was just playing around!"
"Playing around?" Sylvae's laugh was sharp as she yanked her arm free. "Wow, guess Alpha Theron has a very unique definition of jokes."
Delilah went pale, stammering: "I wasn't trying to... I mean, I just..."
"Then apologize. Or we can let the Council sort this out."
Under the Wardens' watchful stares, Delilah had no choice but to swallow her pride and duck her head: "I... I'm sorry..."
After the Wardens left, Sylvae disappeared into her room without another word.
Theron stood there, his jaw clenched tight—
Was he imagining things, or had Sylvae become a total stranger?
Near midnight, Theron knocked on Sylvae's door.
Sylvae answered leaning against the doorframe, her silk robe loose at the collar, showing off her collarbones.
She held a glass of red wine, asking with lazy indifference: "What?"
Theron's eyes lingered on her for a heartbeat: "What the hell's been wrong with you lately?"
He tried to soften his approach. "Delilah's just crashing here temporarily. You're my Luna—what more do you need?"
"Theron." Sylvae cut him off, her lips curving in a cold smile. She took a slow sip of wine. "So you get to keep your perfect Luna while playing house with your mistress? Must be nice having it both ways."
"That's not—" Theron started, but SLAM—the door shut hard in his face.
Theron stood in the hallway, his expression dark.
This wasn't the same she-wolf who used to hang on his every word—when the hell had she become so impossible to handle?
CRASH!
Down the hall, an antique vase exploded against the wall, shards scattering everywhere.
Delilah was shaking with rage, sweeping everything off her dresser in a violent tantrum.
"Sylvae Fenwick!" She gritted her teeth as she spoke the name. "You messed with the wrong one!"
End of Stand-In Luna’s Rise：Bound in My Twin's Name, Freed in My Own Chapter 15. Continue reading Chapter 16 or return to Stand-In Luna’s Rise：Bound in My Twin's Name, Freed in My Own book page.