School Of Sins 1

Was it a miracle to see again after a year of darkness?

Ava Bennett had prayed to the Moon Goddess more times than she could count. Now she sat still, palms sweating, waiting for the doctor to lift the bandages.

With a soft tug, light flooded her world.

Ava blinked, her heart in her throat. The room swam into focus. White walls. Instruments on a tray. Dr. Ward's kind face.

"How does it feel to see again, Miss Bennett?"

"It feels..." Her voice cracked. "Like I've been drowning, and someone finally pulled me up."

The doctor chuckled and tapped something into his tablet. "The surgery was a complete success."

Ava laughed, wet and shaky. A year of bumping into doorframes. Counting steps. Learning people by their scent. And now she could see the water stain on the ceiling.

She'd never been so happy to see anything so ugly.

"Thank you, Dr. Ward. Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me." He gave her a meaningful look. "I did this as a favor to someone. If I hadn't fixed your eyes, I'd have hell to pay."

"Victor." Warmth spread through her chest. "He really went all out for me, didn't he?"

For a moment the doctor just looked at her. Something careful in it. A little sad, even. Then he glanced down at his chart.

"Alpha Victor has certainly been very... invested in your treatment."

She was too dizzy with joy to catch the meaning.

Her fingers slipped into her coat pocket and found the small velvet box. A ring. She'd bought it before the surgery.

Today, she was going to walk into their house, get down on one knee, and ask Victor to make her his Luna.

They were fated mates, and Ava had believed the bond was everything the stories promised. Then Stella Moore, Victor's childhood friend and admirer, had gotten jealous and thrown a fistful of poisoned powder into her eyes, blinding her.

Guilt ate at Victor for failing to protect her. He'd thrown Stella into the dungeon and nearly beaten her to death. Only the elders had gotten her out of the country in time. Then Victor spent the whole year making it up to Ava, chasing down specialist after specialist, holding her through every broken night, swearing he'd kill Stella for her crime.

Through all of it, Ava had clung to one thing: whatever else went wrong, her mate loved her.

She'd even made a quiet promise. If the surgery failed, she'd reject him herself, so he'd never have to carry a blind mate out of pity.

Now, she was whole again, and surely that was the Moon Goddess blessing their love.

She left the hospital with her white cane and the dark glasses, planning to save the news of her sight for the proposal, a double surprise for Victor.

Ava hurried home, pushed the door open, and stepped inside, ready to call his name.

Then she stopped dead.

A pair of high heels and a handbag sat by the door. Neither was hers.

From the bedroom upstairs came a moan, clear and unmistakable, and the dull thud of the bed hitting the wall.

Ava's stomach turned. She climbed the stairs on trembling legs and stopped outside their bedroom door.

"Yes, Victor," the voice purred, "fuck me hard, I'm gonna squirt for you."

She would never forget that voice.

Stella Moore.

Her mate was in bed with the woman who'd blinded her. And from the lazy familiarity of it, this was nowhere near the first time.

But that, Ava would learn in the next sixty seconds, was the smallest of the things about to break her.

"Careful." Stella's murmur drifted through the gap. "Your little blind pet might feel it."

Victor laughed. "She won't. I have never marked her. She can't feel the betrayal."

Once a werewolf marks and claims a mate, betrayal carries a physical price, a sharp, tearing pain through the bond. Victor had never marked Ava. She'd thought he was waiting for the wedding.

"Be honest with me." Stella's voice sharpened beneath the sweetness. "Her or me. Who do you actually want?"

"You. Only ever you. You think I'd touch a blind girl if I didn't have to? I've spent a year playing nursemaid to a woman I can hardly stand to look at."

In the hallway, Ava went very still.

The ringing started somewhere behind her eyes, high and thin, like a wire pulled too tight. She pressed a hand flat to the wall to keep standing.