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Chapter 66: Nothing Like the Way He Looked at Her

[Elizabeth’s Perspective]

After parting ways with Margaret and Armstrong that afternoon, Anthony and I were left to ourselves.

My spirits were still a little low at that time.

I felt like I didn’t look perfect anymore. I was wearing ugly clothes, and was probably sweating under the sun. Appearing in front of my mate like that was definitely not what I wanted.

Armstrong looked at me coldly.

Not for the first time, I noticed that the way he looked at me was nothing like the way he looked at my sister.

When Margaret started dating Armstrong in the days before their relationship was public, I would often go out with them as a cover-up. Since then, I had noticed the way Armstrong looked at Margaret. His eyes were always affectionate and loving.

Although Margaret was my sister, the two of us were completely different people.

Margaret was pretty, smart, and good at fighting. She had done well in every way, and even if she didn’t focus on grooming herself at all, she still had our pack’s Alpha hooked on her.

As for me? I was a mess at everything. I needed help everywhere. The only thing I knew how to do was dress myself up to look beautiful. I had accepted that. I was born that way. I enjoyed the attention of people around me because I was beautiful. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with that.

But when I hanged out with Margaret and Armstrong, I would envy them for being such a great couple. Although there were often boys who expressed their liking for me, no one had ever looked at me the way Armstrong looked at Margaret. They just liked my appearance and didn’t care about me.

After Armstrong inherited the Alpha position, he began taking Anthony with him.

Anthony was different from the boys I’d met before. He was handsome and good at fighting, but he was exceptionally shy. He was always concerned about my feelings and would listen to me seriously without thinking I was superficial and stupid like the others did.

When Armstrong and Margaret sneaked into some corner to make out, I would sit on the lawn with Anthony and talk. I could sense that he was a very polite person. Although he was taken in by my appearance, he would never touch me casually. He was overly rigid and polite.

My heart unknowingly fell for Anthony. Later on, we had sex a few times, but when he confessed his feelings for me, I rejected him.

At that time, I had yet to decide if I wanted to develop a stable relationship like my sister and Armstrong. I felt that I couldn’t be as good as my sister. Anthony would definitely get tired of me sooner or later. Instead of that, it was better not to start. It was better to maintain the status quo.

But then things developed beyond our expectations.

At my coming-of-age ceremony with my sister, Armstrong and I became mates.

I tried to rationalize this in my mind. I tried to convince myself that it was only right for a werewolf to be with her mate. No matter what kind of relationship history I had, it didn’t matter. Those were in the past.

I think I probably accepted how things turned out, just as I accepted that I was not as outstanding as my sister.

I moved to Armstrong’s place, wanting to get used to being a Luna, something I’d never thought about.

In the beginning, Armstrong and I were fine. We were crazy about each other’s bodies. He would pounce on me when he saw me, and I was the same.

We were madly possessive of each other, and Armstrong looked at me with possessiveness and madness. I thought that this was normal, that the mates who were blessed by the moon goddess would be like this.

But later, after our passion for each other faded, I realized that something was wrong. Other than in bed, Armstrong looked at me politely and distantly. Sometimes there was concern, but I was more like a sister he was responsible for. There was never love in his eyes when he looked at me, and he never looked at me the way he looked at Margaret.

I tried. I tried all sorts of ways to learn to be Luna, manage the dinners, maintain my good looks, and even learn to fight like my sister.

However, I really hated all these things. And I hated violence in all forms. All these efforts had been useless. They did not make Armstrong look at me or see me in a new light.

Margaret and I had never been affectionate with each other. And after Armstrong and I became mates, she was even more unwilling to be with me.

I could feel all this. But I also felt wronged. What did I do wrong? I didn’t make any deliberate arrangements or try to snatch her boyfriend. Why should I have to bear all the responsibility?

When I was isolated and helpless, the only person who gave me comfort was Anthony.