Author: Momo Chan

My boyfriend, Viktor—non-marriage doctrine—suddenly proposed to me. I thought he had finally come around. Until the day of our wedding, when he casually tossed the marriage certificate into a drawer and said, as if it meant nothing: “Go cancel your lawyer’s license tomorrow.” “I’ve been transferred to a community court. I’ll be the chief judge.” As a lawyer, if your spouse works in the court system due to conflict-of-interest regulations, everything I had built over the years—my cases, my network, my clients, even my chance at promotion—would be wiped out overnight. I stared at him, my voice trembling. “Why? You knew this…” He leaned back on the couch, not even bothering to look at me. “I did.” “Then why did you marry me?” Only then did Viktor look up. He smiled and gently wiped my tears away. “I wasn’t planning to get married in the first place.” “But you refused to step aside. You insisted on competing with Celina for that partner position.” He paused, the smile on his lips deepening. “She couldn’t beat you… so I had to help her.” In that instant, my blood ran cold. He looked at my pale face, his tone still gentle even considerate. “Now that the goal’s been achieved, if you want a divorce, go ahead.” — I stood there, stunned. The wedding dress on my body, once so light, suddenly felt suffocating. Viktor stubbed out his cigarette. “I actually planned to keep this from you for the rest of your life.” “But the day you had gastric bleeding… I was shopping with Celina.” His voice was light, as if he were talking about something utterly trivial. “When I went to the hospital later and saw how hard you were working, I suddenly felt sorry for Celina.” I stared at him in disbelief, wondering if I had heard wrong. “I was dying… and you felt sorry for her?” He nodded. “I felt sorry for her having to work so hard. She’s not as capable as you, and she can’t endure as much.” “You could still crawl out of bed and review case files with a bleeding stomach. If she were in your position, it would be even harder for her.” “I can’t bear to see her suffer like that.” My nails dug deep into my palms. I couldn’t understand. We had been together for seven years. He knew perfectly well that since childhood, Celina had treated me like a punching bag. She stole my toys. Tore up my homework. She even pushed me down the stairs on purpose and broke three of my ribs. Back then, when he found out, he clenched his fists and warned her: “If you touch her again, I won’t let you off.” So that was what he meant by “not letting her off.” Not to stand up for me— but to wait until today, and personally hand over everything I had spent half my life building… to her. I looked at him with red eyes, my voice shaking uncontrollably. “So your sudden proposal… wasn’t because you wanted to marry me.” “It was because once you transferred to the community court, as long as I became your wife, I’d have to withdraw from California cases and automatically lose my eligibility for partnership.” “You planned this from the very beginning, didn’t you?” Viktor didn’t deny it. He simply reached out and adjusted my slightly messy veil, his movements as gentle as all the times he used to comfort me. “Celina couldn’t beat you.” “So I had to give her a hand.” My heart felt like it was being crushed in a giant grip. Just as I was about to suffocate— his phone rang. It was Celina. He didn’t answer. Instead, he looked at me calmly. “Have you made your choice? You know your sister’s temper. If she starts making a scene later, I won’t be able to calm her down.” I suddenly raised my hand and slapped him, screaming in breakdown. He didn’t dodge. Blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. “Viktor, get the hell out!” Facing my uncontrollable tears, Viktor clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Fine. See you at the civil affairs office tomorrow.” “Anyway, you can’t practice law in California anymore. I’ll compensate you. I won’t let this be for nothing.” The moment the door slammed shut, I collapsed to the ground, unable to stand any longer. —

The sound of the door slamming made my ears ring. I looked down at the wedding dress I was wearing and suddenly found it absurd. Just a second ago, I had been wearing it, imagining a future with Viktor. The next second, it became evidence of his calculation against me. I yanked off my veil and tore the dress apart. Lace, beads, white fabric scattered all over the floor— just like the seven years of sincerity I had poured into this relationship, now crushed to pieces. After who knows how long, I finally picked up my phone with trembling hands and sent a message to someone I hadn’t contacted in years. [Dad, I agree.] He replied almost instantly. [Didn’t you say you couldn’t let go of Viktor? What about your child?] I stared at those words, my eyes stinging, my fingers shaking so badly I could barely type. [I’ll be a good mother, without father.] That tiny life, discovered just two weeks ago— was supposed to be my surprise for Viktor after the wedding. But now, there was no need anymore. The moment I walked in, I saw Viktor sitting on the couch. When he saw me, he looked completely unsurprised. “Done making a scene? I knew you wouldn’t be willing to divorce.” “I’ll give you 100,000 a month from now on.” I didn’t respond. I simply took out the divorce agreement I had prepared in advance and placed it gently on the coffee table. “Sign it.” Viktor paused. He lowered his gaze to the document, his expression darkening visibly. “What do you mean?” “Exactly what it says.” My voice was calm. “Divorce.” He stared at me, then suddenly let out a cold laugh. “Not enough money?” “Fine. I’ll add another 100,000.” “200,000 a month. That should be enough, right?” He leaned back into the couch, his tone arrogant like he was granting charity. “You wouldn’t even earn this much in a year working yourself to death at the firm.” Listening to him, I suddenly wanted to laugh. So in his eyes, the reason I asked for a divorce wasn’t because seven years of love had been manipulated. Not because my future had been destroyed. Not because he had trampled me into the dirt for Celina but simply because the price wasn’t right. I swallowed the bitterness in my throat and looked at him calmly. “No need.” After saying that, I walked past him toward the bedroom. Behind me, his voice suddenly rose with anger he couldn’t suppress: “Leona, don’t be ungrateful!” “You’ve lost your job. If you leave me, are you planning to become homeless in California?!” “Who else would want a woman like you with nothing?” My steps paused slightly, my fists tightening. Seeing my silence, his tone grew colder, as if he was certain I couldn’t leave him. “If you walk out that door today, even if you beg me on your knees in the future, I won’t remarry you.” With my back to him, tears still fell despite myself. Beg him? Over the years, I had begged him countless times. Begged him to spend my birthday with me. Begged him to meet my parents. Begged him not to always take Celina’s side. Begged him not to leave me to carry everything alone. But from now on I would never beg again. — The next morning, when I woke up, Viktor was already gone. The divorce agreement on the coffee table— had been torn to pieces. Just like the wedding dress that night. Completely shattered. I stood there for a long time, until my phone suddenly vibrated. It was Celina. [Leona, my partner inauguration ceremony is tomorrow. You must come.] Right after that, another photo popped up. In the picture, Viktor stood behind her, his hand resting on her shoulder, his expression gentle. [After all, if you don’t come, who am I supposed to show off to?]

I stared at those words for a few seconds—then suddenly laughed. So for some people, winning once isn’t enough. They have to grind others into the dirt before they feel satisfied. Viktor was no longer worth even a fraction of my emotion. But before leaving this city, I still needed to complete my resignation properly. Under the crystal chandelier, my colleagues gathered around Celina, their laughter rising louder and louder. “Celina is really something—capable and strategic. Not like some people who chase after a man and rush into marriage, only to end up going home as a housewife.” “Exactly. What’s the point of a glamorous wedding? Lost the job, lost the future—total disaster. It’s honestly hilarious.” When Celina noticed me, the triumph in her eyes was almost impossible to hide. “I knew you’d come.” “I’ve always been a little jealous of you, actually. At least you can openly be Viktor’s wife.” Her gaze slid to the resignation letter in my hand, the curve of her lips deepening. “Unlike me—other than my career and his true feelings, I have nothing.” When I didn’t respond, she leaned closer and lowered her voice. “But you don’t know this yet, do you? The first time we were together… was when you were hospitalized.” I turned my head sharply toward her. Her smile widened. “In the hospital restroom. You were in agony from gastric bleeding, and he was comforting me while telling me to keep my voice down.” “Later, you even asked him through the door if he wasn’t feeling well.” “Don’t you think that’s… kind of pathetic?” Watching my face turn pale, Celina’s smile became even more unrestrained. “You… will always only deserve to pick up what others—” “Ah!” Before I even realized it, the glass of red wine in my hand had already been splashed straight at her face. “Leona! Are you insane?!” Almost at the same moment, a familiar figure rushed over. “Celina kindly invited you to this event, and this is how you treat her?” Celina collapsed into Viktor’s arms, her voice trembling softly as she cried. “It’s okay. She’s upset, and that’s understandable. After all, I took her partner position. I should bear it.” Viktor gently patted her back. “It’s not your fault. She just isn’t capable enough.” When he looked up at me, there was nothing left in his eyes but piercing coldness. “Leona, have you had enough?” “A loss is a loss. You can’t even accept that?” “If you’re not good enough, who else is to blame?” So this is what it feels like—when the pain goes beyond a limit, you truly stop crying. I took out a document from my bag and looked at him calmly. “Viktor, let’s get divorced.” He froze for a moment, then let out a mocking laugh. “What now? Trying to threaten me with divorce again?” “Everyone knows today is your last day. You’ve lost your job—what choice do you have besides going home and being Mrs. Frate?” —

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On Christmas Eve, my husband Julian called our daughter selfish just for buying a five-dollar box of strawberry cookies. “You’re really something, aren’t you?” “No one else in this family even likes strawberry. But sure, let her have whatever she wants.” I took the cookies and put it in the cart. “It’s just a box of cookies. If she wants them, we’ll get them.” Julian threw it back on the shelf. “No way. I’m not encouraging this kind of selfish behavior!” I stared at him in disbelief. The next second, Chloe’s son wanted a light-up drone. Julian didn’t hesitate to pay for it on the spot. Chloe, my husband’s sister-in-law, had tears in her eyes. “Hunter is so lucky to have someone who cares about him. His father can rest in peace knowing this.” A flash of triumph crossed her face. Watching the three of them walk ahead side by side, I felt a sharp pang of loneliness. I pulled Mia into my arms and quietly sent a text. “Dad, cancel Julian’s CEO promotion!” …… Mia sat in the car looking completely crushed, while I kept my head down the whole ride. Julian’s voice was ice cold. “Lauren, your family’s manipulative scheming really does run in the blood.” “Mia’s only five and she’s already playing people for her own benefit. You’ve taught her well.” The car stopped at a red light. Julian turned to look at me in the backseat. “Your dad kept me at the bottom of the company for ten years just to control me.” “Ten years of reading his every mood” “But it’s finally my turn now. I’m about to take over and run everything.” Outside, the streets were strung with lights. Inside the car, it was dim and suffocating. I could barely make out Julian’s expression. My dad made him start at entry-level so he’d understand the business from the ground up—so he could manage employees properly later. Back then, Julian had sworn up and down, hand on his heart, that he’d never let my father down. Now, ten years later, my dad was stepping down and preparing to hand the company over to Julian. My father’s good intentions had become “manipulation” in his eyes. I stared at him. “A five-dollar box of cookies is manipulation?” Then I looked at the drone flashing rainbow colors in Hunter’s hands. “You won’t spend five bucks on your own daughter, but you’ll drop a hundred fifty on someone else’s kid without blinking.” Julian looked like I’d struck a nerve. He glared at me. “Hunter lost his father. I’m his uncle. Taking care of him is what I’m supposed to do!” Chloe, sitting in the passenger seat, patted Julian’s arm. “Why are you getting so worked up? You’re scaring the kids.” She turned to Mia with a sugary smile. “Sweetie, don’t be upset. We can turn around right now and buy them.” Julian gripped the steering wheel, refusing to budge. “I’m doing this for her own good. If she’s this selfish at five, what’s she going to be like when she grows up?” Hunter turned on the drone’s music. Loud, obnoxious noise filled the entire car. The sound was giving me a headache. I reached over to turn it off. Hunter slapped my hand away and yelled. “Stop it! What are you doing?!” “Why are you trying to break my drone?!” Julian slammed on the brakes and pulled over to the side of the road. “Lauren, are you doing this on purpose? Are you seriously this petty? Fighting with a kid!” Chloe’s disgust was practically dripping from her eyes, though her face still wore that sticky-sweet smile. “It’s fine, she didn’t mean it. Don’t blame her.” Mia, who had witnessed everything, stepped up to defend me. “Mommy didn’t even touch the drone.” Julian’s temper flared instantly. He pointed at me and started yelling. “Lauren, look at what you’ve turned our daughter into!” “Hunter saw the whole thing, and she’s still lying!” Mia didn’t back down. She leaned forward. “I’m not lying. Why are you accusing Mommy of something she didn’t do?” Julian raised his hand to slap her. Mia’s voice broke. “Why are you hitting me? I didn’t do anything wrong……” I pulled Mia into my arms and shouted at Julian. “That’s enough! Mia is your own daughter—how can you even raise your hand to her?!” Julian wouldn’t let it go. “It doesn’t matter who it is. If you do something wrong, there are consequences.” The year Mia was born, Julian couldn’t stop showing her off to the world. He did everything himself—feeding, changing diapers—and his phone was full of nothing but pictures of her. He used to watch her sleep and whisper, voice full of adoration: “I’ll give my daughter anything she wants. She deserves the best things in this world.” Now, over five dollars and a misunderstanding, he’d hit her right in front of me. Chloe raised an eyebrow at me. At some point, her hand had landed on Julian’s thigh. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “Julian, you should just go live with them from now on!”

My eyes fell on Chloe’s hand resting on his leg. “Julian, you’re sleeping with your sister-in-law. Do you even think about your brother?” “You’re both fucking disgusting. Sleeping with your dead brother’s wife—you’re a piece of shit!” Julian’s face flushed red with anger. “Shut your fucking mouth. Leave Chloe out of this!” Chloe pulled her hand back, looking completely innocent. Julian suddenly let out a mocking laugh as he looked at me. “Oh right, you’re so fucking moral. Where was all that decency when you were spreading your legs at eighteen?” That unbearable memory was dragged back, and dizziness hit me. In our third year together, Julian and I had decided to exchange secrets. Julian brushed his hair against my face, his eyes so sincere. “My biggest secret is that I’m terrified of losing you.” “I know there’s a huge gap between us. Your family looks down on me. But I’d do anything for you.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, his long lashes sweeping across my face. “Babe, what’s your secret?” I told him. When I was eighteen, someone followed me. He dragged me into the bushes and assaulted me. I reported it to the police and he was arrested. But a month later, I had no choice but to go to the hospital for an abortion. That incident became a shadow I could never shake off. But then I met him. He brought me back to life. Julian held me tight, tears streaming down his face. “It’s all in the past. From now on, I’ll protect you.” He’d turned my darkest secret into a weapon. Chloe looked me up and down with amusement. “Wow, Lauren. You look so innocent. Had no idea you were into that kind of thing.” Julian laughed bitterly. “Who knows how many guys you were fucking. Probably got knocked up by some random asshole and made up that whole ‘assault’ story.” “What a joke. I believed you all these years.” Every word drove deeper into my chest. Looking at the certainty on Julian’s face, I felt nothing but regret. Love changes. It shifts. It disappears. Some secrets should just rot in your gut. Julian’s phone rang. It was connected to the car’s Bluetooth. “Honey, are you on your way back? Dinner’s ready and we’re waiting for you.” It was his mother. Hunter shouted at the phone. “Grandma, Uncle Julian bought me a drone today, but Aunt Lauren almost broke it!” Martha’s voice was dripping with false sympathy as she cooed at him. “Bad Auntie. Grandma will deal with her when you get home!” “Hunter, sweetie, Grandma made peanut butter cookies for you. Hurry back and eat them.” Mia was allergic to peanuts. But every single year, Martha made peanut butter cookies because Hunter loved them. Every year, Mia could only sit there and watch them eat. This year, she’d just wanted to try a box of strawberry cookies, and her own father called her selfish. Chloe’s voice turned sickeningly sweet. “Martha, you’re so thoughtful. You always remember what Hunter likes.” As she spoke, she glanced up at me. The necklace around her neck glinted in the light. That necklace was identical to the one I’d lost. Julian had it custom-made for me. I couldn’t be mistaken. Mia asked timidly. “Grandma, are there any other kinds? I want some too.” Martha’s voice turned sharp. “No. You’re so picky. What peanut allergy? I think you’re just spoiled!” Julian piled on immediately. “That’s what happens when her mother coddles her!” The road was getting emptier. Everyone else was home having dinner with their families. But I didn’t want to go back to that house anymore.

All the hurt Mia had been holding in finally erupted. She couldn’t stop crying. Julian looked at her irritably. “If you keep crying, I’m throwing you out of this car!” Mia sobbed so hard she could barely breathe. “Daddy, you’re not being fair. Grandma’s not being fair either……” I held Mia in my arms and wiped away her tears. Hunter snapped at her. “Can you stop crying already? It’s so annoying!” Mia couldn’t stop. Hunter turned to Julian and whined. “Uncle Julian, can’t you make her shut up? I can’t even hear my music anymore.” Mia cried even harder. “Daddy doesn’t love me anymore……” Julian’s patience finally ran out. He pulled Mia out of the car and left her on the side of the road. “How many times do I have to tell you before you get it? Stand out here and think about what you did!” I got out to pull Mia back in. Julian immediately shut the door in my face. “You can stay out here and reflect too!” Chloe and Hunter watched us smugly from inside the car as it drove off. The night air was freezing. Mia was barely dressed for it and started shivering. “Mommy, I didn’t do anything wrong. Why is Daddy treating me like this?” I took off my coat and wrapped it around her, then texted Julian. “It’s cold out here. Mia’s still getting over a cold. Come back right now.” Five minutes later, Julian finally replied. “It’s barely been any time. How could she have learned her lesson already? She needs to stay out there longer!” “Mia’s only five! What are you trying to prove?!” “Exactly because she’s young—that’s when she needs to be disciplined.” When I saw that message, my phone was down to ten percent battery. “Julian, my phone’s about to die. Come back and pick up Mia!” Half an hour later, he responded. “If you want me to come get you, go apologize to Hunter.” “Why should I?” “Because you upset Hunter!” Battery: eight percent. Martha tagged me in the family group chat. “Just apologize to the kid already!” Chloe posted several photos to the chat. Everyone eating dinner together—Julian, Chloe, Hunter, and Julian’s parents. All five of them smiling around the table. Not a single person had come to look for us. Mia started coughing. “Mommy, I’m so cold……” Julian posted on social media. Family gathering. The pictures were the same ones Chloe had sent. Battery: six percent. Mia’s coughing got worse and worse. I swallowed my pride and begged Julian. “Please, come get us. I’m really scared something’s going to happen to Mia.” Julian softened slightly. “Fine. Record an apology video and post it in the group chat.” Standing there in the freezing wind, I said it word by word. “Hunter, I’m sorry for trying to touch your drone. Can you forgive me?” Chloe replied in the group chat immediately. “Oh, honey, it’s fine. We’re all family. No need to take it so seriously.” She tagged Julian. “Go pick them up. They can still make it back for dinner.” Battery: four percent. I waited for an hour. Julian never came. Battery: two percent. I used the last bit of charge to text my father. “Dad, I lost.” “I’ll do whatever you think is best from now on.” My dad replied instantly. “Got it. I’ve already handled the situation with Julian.” Battery: zero percent. My phone died completely. I took Mia’s hand and started walking in the opposite direction. I didn’t look back.

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My husband, Lorenzo, was supposedly killed in a setup by a rival family. His dying wish was for me to take good care of the baby he had adopted. His parents and my best friend, Rosalie, all cried as they begged me. “Dinah, just sign the adoption papers. “It was Lorenzo’s last wish!” I agreed. What I never expected was that the child had severe leukemia. For the next twenty years, I handled family business by day and avenged Lorenzo, then cared for the child at night. I kept going through it all, even when I was so exhausted I coughed blood. Even the child Lorenzo and I had conceived was lost in an accidental miscarriage while I was drowning in work. But on the day the child recovered and inherited the Don’s position, someone shoved me from the eighth floor. My skull burst open on the ground. The last thing I saw before I died was Lorenzo holding Rosalie in his arms. “Useless thing. It took her twenty years to cure our child’s illness. She kept our family of three apart all this time.” Rosalie was gentle and vicious at once. “Forget it. At least that idiot did cure the child.” “Let’s go home and celebrate. Today is the day our family is finally reunited!” Watching them leave with smiles on their faces, I died with resentment burning in my chest. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of Lorenzo’s funeral. … “Lorenzo, how could you die and leave behind such a tiny child? How are Salvatore and I supposed to go on?” The shrill wail of Lorenzo’s mother, Bianca, and the crying of an infant slammed into my ears. Before I could react, someone forced a baby into my arms. “The baby was crying just now, but the second you held him, he stopped. You really are meant to be, Dinah!” The family members around us clicked their tongues in wonder and instinctively gathered closer. “Yes, maybe the child likes Dinah.” “What a shame the Don died so young. Otherwise, this would have been such a happy little family.” “In a way, this child is something Lorenzo left behind for Dinah.” A jolt went through me. I realized I truly had been reborn on the day of Lorenzo’s burial. The child in my arms cried weakly. His features faintly resembled Lorenzo’s, and his body was so thin he almost weighed nothing. Beside me, Rosalie’s eyes were full of love, so obvious it was practically spilling out. I sneered inwardly. In my past life, I had been trapped in the pain and despair of losing Lorenzo and had noticed nothing. And the child had clearly been born with severe leukemia. He was nearly out of breath now, which was why he had stopped crying, yet they twisted the truth and called it fate between us. Bianca’s usually elegant, soft gray hair now hung in a mess over her shoulders as she stared at the baby with tears streaming down her face. “The day before yesterday, Lorenzo told us he had found a baby who looked just like him. He said it was a bond sent by God…” Lorenzo’s father, Salvatore, wrapped an arm around her shoulders. His voice shook with barely contained sobs as he spoke to me. “He was on his way back to find you. Who could have known he would run into an ambush halfway?” “But since this is the child Lorenzo wanted to raise, he is the heir of the Moretti family!” As he spoke, his gaze slowly hardened with resolve. “Dinah, from now on, you will take care of this child. Otherwise, even in death, Lorenzo will never be at peace!” The old couple clung to each other and wept over the infant. Everyone present looked pained. Rosalie gripped my arm, her eyes red as if she had been moved to tears. “Dinah, accept him.” The family members who knew nothing joined in. “That’s right. The child looks like Lorenzo too. “Maybe he really is your destiny.” “Old Don, please don’t cry. I’m sure the Don wouldn’t want to see you this heartbroken from below.” “With the Godmother here, taking care of this child won’t be a problem.” I noticed that while everyone spoke, Rosalie kept stealing glances at the coffin. Looking more closely, I suddenly saw several air holes in the side of the coffin. If I watched carefully, I could even make out tiny movements inside. Sure enough, Lorenzo was not dead at all. This funeral was a fraud he and Rosalie had conspired to stage so they could dump the child on me. For eighteen years in my previous life, I had given everything for that child and for the Moretti family, only to die with my eyes open. Meanwhile, their family of three stepped over my corpse and reunited. I shoved the baby straight into Rosalie’s arms. Then I looked at everyone and spoke each word clearly. “I will not claim this child.”

The moment the words left my mouth, Salvatore’s expression froze. Bianca pointed at me, tears pouring down her face all at once. “Dinah, Lorenzo died because he was going to find you. You won’t even agree to this one request?” Salvatore’s eyes reddened. “When Lorenzo was alive, aside from handling family affairs, he gave you all his time and every asset he had. He even hired a nanny because he was afraid you would work too hard. He personally cooked the food you liked. In what way did he ever wrong you?” “You’ve been married for five years and your belly has shown no sign of life. Now you won’t even adopt a child?” “We’ve already lost our son. Are we not even allowed to keep one last reminder of him?” Tears shimmered in his eyes as his gaze swept over Rosalie almost imperceptibly. Rosalie gritted her teeth and viciously pinched the child in her arms. The baby instantly threw back his head and cried until his face turned bluish-purple. “Dinah! This child became an orphan at such a young age. If you refuse to raise him, you’re sending him to his death!” Her tears fell in streams. “Before Lorenzo died, he specifically told you to take good care of this child. Do you want him to die unable to rest?” “This is all your fault!” Bianca lost her mind, lunging at me and beating me with both fists. “If you hadn’t been lazy and slept until noon, why would he have rushed home to cook for you? Why would he have fallen into an ambush? Why would he have lost his life?” “You killed my son, and now you want to throw away the Moretti family’s only heir. You might as well kill me!” She collapsed on the floor sobbing. Even the family members around us could no longer watch in silence. “Godmother, the Don left so suddenly, but since he asked you to take care of this child, please accept him. It is not as though the Moretti family cannot afford one child.” “That’s right. The Don treated you so well. Don’t break his heart.” “And with the old Don and old Godmother helping, the child will survive somehow.” Everyone envied me for having such a husband, but they had no idea what the truth was. On the surface, Lorenzo was the strategist Don outside and the attentive, capable husband at home. In reality, I handled the Moretti family’s affairs behind the scenes while he merely announced the results to everyone at meetings. Otherwise, after he “died” in my previous life, I could never have held the entire family together. His so-called tenderness was an illusion too. He could not cook at all. He did not even know I was allergic to milk. Every time he brought me a glass of it, all I could do was stare at it in silence. Thinking of all the grievances from the past, I was so furious I blurted out, “That child is a bastard to begin with. He is Lorenzo and–” Before I could finish, Bianca slapped me across the face. Then she pulled out an adoption agreement and smacked it onto the table. “Lorenzo is dead. Whether you want to or not, this child must stay, and you must take good care of him!” “This was Lorenzo’s dying wish, and it is what you owe the Moretti family!” One glance showed me that my name had already been signed on the adoption agreement. All that remained was for me to press down my fingerprint. My mind exploded with a buzz. “What gives you the right to sign for me?” I screamed and lunged forward, trying to tear the agreement to pieces, but Salvatore yanked me away. My forehead slammed hard against the coffin. “You will sign this agreement whether you want to or not!” he shouted, pointing at me. “For all these years, Lorenzo loved you more than he loved himself. He spoiled you rotten. What right do you have to kill Lorenzo and then leave the Moretti family without an heir?” “Ungrateful wretch! You have no conscience at all! If I had known, I never would have let Lorenzo marry you back then!” The pain in my forehead and the noise around me made my nerves ring. Then I heard a soft laugh from inside the coffin. It was Lorenzo. He was laughing at me because I could not break free of this damned fate. I could only follow his script toward death. My chest felt so tight it might burst. Then I caught sight of Bianca taking the child from Rosalie. She rubbed her cheek tenderly against the child’s face and murmured. “…Don’t be afraid. I’ll find you good bone marrow…” Those words struck the crown of my head like a thunderbolt. Blood dripped from my forehead as I stared hard at Bianca. Lorenzo had supposedly found the child only the day before yesterday. This should have been their first meeting. How did she know the child was ill? How did she know he needed a bone marrow transplant? So Lorenzo’s fake death had been known to them from the beginning. The Moretti family and Rosalie wanted to use this funeral to turn me into that bastard’s blood bank.

I thought of my previous life, when I had been busy crushing the rival family that had “killed” Lorenzo, working myself into a miscarriage until I was so thin I weighed barely seventy pounds. Even when my grandmother died, I, her only family, had not made it in time to see her one last time. And before I died, Lorenzo and Rosalie had laughed and called me an idiot. My rage surged out in a roar, but my mind became calmer than it had ever been. They had staged this elaborate drama because they wanted me to be the sucker and still keep their good name, didn’t they? Fine. Then I would make sure they lost every scrap of reputation they had. I bit down hard on the tip of my tongue, forcing down the storm of emotion, lowered my head, and called 911. Then I turned to glance at the coffin and suddenly asked in a soft voice, “How exactly did Lorenzo die? What time, down to the minute? Is there a death certificate?” “What do you mean?” Salvatore immediately shot back. “Lorenzo died because of you. If he hadn’t been coming home to cook for you, how would he have walked into an ambush? And now you dare suspect him?” “Really?” I gave a faint scoff. “But after I heard the news of Lorenzo’s death, I fainted. When I woke up, I had not even seen his body before you tried to bury him. Isn’t that wrong?” The roomful of family members exchanged looks. “That’s true. I never saw the Don’s body either.” “I didn’t see a death certificate.” “He went straight from the hospital into the coffin. That is a little fast. At the very least, we should have been allowed to say goodbye.” A cold gleam flickered in Rosalie’s eyes. She handed the child to someone else, turned, and walked out. Bianca answered shrilly, “That’s because Lorenzo was covered in wounds. I was afraid it would frighten all of you!” Salvatore quickly picked up the thread. “This is life and death. Could anyone fake something like that?” At that, the family members who had begun to doubt nodded one after another. “True. Who would joke about the Don’s life?” “And there really was someone inside the coffin. I saw it when they closed the lid.” I sneered. “As his wife, I am not allowed to see him one last time? Then now–” “I will go say goodbye to Lorenzo properly.”

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I blinked several times, staring at the message glowing on the surface of the soulstone in my palm. It felt like a blunt force had struck my chest—I couldn’t even breathe. It was an invitation sealed with moonbinding sigils, its edges laced with silver thread—a symbol of pure-blood Alpha honor. “Alpha Fernando and Bianca cordially invite you to attend their bonding oath ceremony…” My lips cracked dry. My ears rang. I read the sentence over and over again, as if hoping that, just once, it would change into something else. “No.” Leona’s voice shot through my mind, low and sharp, like claws raking across stone. “This isn’t right. He’s not the Alpha meant for us.” No. This had to be fake. alpha fermando is blackthorn pack’s alpha. Bianca? The Beta cousin? The one Fernando always said was “just a friend”? My hand trembled as I stared at the sender’s spirit mark—it was Bianca herself. She’d always looked down on me for being a Gamma. Never hid her disdain. This had to be a deliberate attempt to humiliate me. Or maybe… a declaration of victory. But why… why had my wolf suddenly stopped responding to Alpha Fernando’s aura? “Because he never truly responded to us.” Leona scoffed, her voice tight, bitter—wounded. “You thought it was a fated resonance. But it was never mutual. Just a fantasy born of your desperation.” My heart thundered against my ribs like a war drum. Fernando was my fated mate. I knew the moment I first saw him on the night of my eighteenth Moon Ceremony. We hadn’t completed the marking ritual, true, but I thought… I thought he just wasn’t ready yet. “He wasn’t unready,” Leona bit out, syllables as sharp as bone, “he was never willing. You gave us to an Alpha who made a joke out of the Moon Goddess’s vow.” I needed to hear him deny this bond ceremony himself. Stumbling out of the council chamber, I raced through the runestone corridor, ducked into the nearest signal tower, and clutched my soulstone tightly, channeling soul-thread to form a message imprint. Before I could activate the resonance spell, the soulstone began to pulse violently, waves of silver-blue light rising—an Alpha-tier transmission. Fernando was contacting me. Thank the Moon. He was going to explain everything. He’d say it was a misunderstanding. I accepted the call at once. “Fe—” “…Thalia? That pitiful Gamma?” His voice struck like a blade of frost, laced with mockery. I froze. Something within me began to burn—dark, painful. Like silver venom surging backward through my veins. “You hear that?” Leona’s voice trembled too, but it was like holding back a scream with gritted teeth. “He doesn’t love you. Doesn’t respect you. Doesn’t even see us as a soul worth naming.” “Please. She’s just a convenient tool. Like I’d ever make her my Luna.” My hand hovered in the air, numb. “She still doesn’t know?” another male voice chimed in, full of smug amusement. “The way she worships me, it’s pathetic,” Fernando sneered. “Cooking, cleaning, managing my alliance scrolls—might as well squeeze out the last bit of usefulness.” I instinctively covered my mouth, a guttural sob caught in my throat. Shame and soul-deep agony cracked me open from the inside. “He’s tearing our soul apart.” Leona’s voice lowered to a near whisper. “And you still think he deserves a single tear?” “Didn’t you send her to the High Council Summit?” someone else asked. “Of course,” Fernando said. “Told her she’d represent me. She looked like she’d been handed a shard of the moon.” I remembered that day. I was ecstatic. I thought it meant he was finally ready to acknowledge me… publicly. Their laughter sliced me over and over again. “She was just a placeholder,” Fernando said flatly. “I’ve waited years for Bianca. Thalia was never more than passing time.” The ground beneath me crumbled. My whole world began to fall. “I’ve made sure she stays clueless. Once the ceremony is over, I’ll decide what to do with her next.” “And if she finds out?” “She loves me too much. She’d drink silver venom if I told her it was moonlight.” At that moment, my soul-link with him shattered. Not because of his betrayal. But because I saw it clearly now—he had never honored the connection in the first place. I ended the soulstone call. My body shook. Tears poured uncontrollably down my face. I looked pathetic. Just like they said. I had gathered sacred spring crystals to strengthen our bond resonance, begged healing witches for sigils to purge his battle toxins, done everything I could to nurture a future he never even planned to share. “You’re not pathetic,” Leona whispered softly now, like her fury had ebbed into sorrow. “You just… loved.” “But now it’s time. Time to shed this disgrace. Say the words you should’ve said long ago.” I knew—if I didn’t sever this mate-bond myself, I would forever be shackled to his scorn. So I spoke, voice raw but steady: “I, Thalia, rejected you, Alpha Fernando, as my mate.” A faint trail of lunar markings faded from my shoulder. The bond could never be reforged. The marking ritual would never happen. And then Leona roared within me— “We are free!” I stood tall, wiped my tears, and untied the heartward talisman wrapped around my wrist. I was no longer the little she-wolf waiting in the shadows for love. I opened the hidden imprint archive in my soulstone and accessed a sealed frequency. “Alpha Ross,” I said, my voice calm and sure, “I’m ready to become your mate.” He was the alpha of sliverclaw pack. There was a brief silence. Then his voice came through—deep, steady, and gentle: “I’m glad,” he said. “Call me Ross.”

I left the Elder Council meeting without a shred of hesitation, claiming I wasn’t feeling well. No one questioned me—my reddened eyes and fractured aura said enough. In truth, I’d spent the entire meeting suppressing my wolf’s instinctive revolt. Leona had nearly broken through the mental barrier, desperate to confront Fernando across the distance. It was a textbook signal—the kind that flares right before a soulbond between an Alpha and his fated mate begins to rupture. I knew I was entering the final stage of resonance collapse. “We have to leave,” Leona growled hoarsely. “If we stay any longer, we’ll lose the strength to rebuild what remains of our wolfheart.” I didn’t argue. Because she was right. When I returned to my dwelling on the edge of the territory, Alpha Fernando wasn’t home yet. Good. I needed time to stabilize my aura, to prepare for the confrontation I knew was coming—especially after what I heard on that soulstone transmission. I activated the crystal’s core and resumed my remote connection with Alpha Ross. We were discussing the final preparations for the marking ceremony: it had to take place under a full moon, and a certified healing witch must be present to oversee the ritual. More importantly, I needed to fully purge the residual imprint of Fernando’s soulmark from within me—without that, Ross’s mark wouldn’t take. A few minutes later, Alpha Fernando stepped through the door. But I didn’t look up. I kept tapping the soulstone’s surface, composing my reply to Ross’s latest message. Fernando sensed the change instantly. The air grew heavy between us. He wasn’t used to being ignored—especially not by me. In the past, whenever he walked through that door, I would rush to greet him, smiling as I asked if he was hurt, if he needed his wounds treated with moonstone salve. But now, I didn’t even lift my gaze. “Thalia?” he called gently. I raised my head slowly. “Hmm?” My tone was flat, cold. He paused, frowning. “What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping closer. “Your aura’s… unsteady.” I gave a casual shrug and returned my attention to the soulstone. “It’s nothing,” I said calmly. “The meeting ran long. Just gave me a bit of a headache.” I even forced a faint smile. He visibly relaxed. Clearly, he thought I was still unaware of his and Bianca’s secret preparations for their marking ritual. “Too late,” Leona muttered, voice like crushed glass. “From the moment he betrayed the bond gifted to us by the Moon Goddess, we stopped belonging to him.” “By the way, there’s something I wanted to tell you,” I said casually. Fernando narrowed his eyes, wary. “What is it?” I kept my tone light, still tapping on the stone’s surface. “I’ve been thinking… I’ve been doing a lot of Alpha-level work lately. But I realized, maybe I’m better suited for something else.” Leona’s voice sliced through me like a blade. “This is the moment you begin the severing.” He squinted, his voice taut. “You’re stepping away from our shared responsibilities? Are you abandoning me?” “I didn’t say that.” I chuckled softly, still not looking at him. “I just believe someone of your Alpha rank is perfectly capable of handling the territory alone. Besides… isn’t Bianca quite good at Alpha-level policy work?” His face darkened instantly at the mention of her name. “Bianca?” he snapped. “What are you implying?” I finally looked at him, letting a sickeningly sweet smile stretch across my lips. “You know, while I was away, she was… very helpful. Treated your injuries, kept your favorite healing crystals at the ready, even spoke up for you when you were late to the summit.” A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face. That was when I saw it—real fear. “Thalia, you don’t really think I—? There’s nothing going on between me and her. I never—” “I don’t care,” I interrupted flatly. “Whatever’s happened between you two… I’ve already made peace with it.” “Made peace with what?” I didn’t answer. Instead, I reached to my wrist and unfastened the band that sealed the Guardian Rune of Pending Bond, the last psychic protection worn by any Gamma who had not yet accepted a new mark. Fernando froze. That’s when he realized—I no longer belonged to him. “I’m going to wash up,” I said, standing. As I passed him, I made sure not to brush against his aura—not even the faintest touch of soul resonance. “We’ll talk later.” “Not now, Alpha Fernando.” I walked into the hallway. Behind me, I could hear his hesitant footsteps—but he didn’t follow. He didn’t dare. He knew—this time, I wasn’t the girl foolish enough to be deceived by silver venom a third time.

I heard Alpha Fernando push the door open and step inside. I shut my eyes tightly and forced myself to stay completely still, pretending to be asleep. “Thalia?” he called. I didn’t respond. “Thalia, are you awake?” he asked again, this time more gently. Still, I didn’t move. Leona growled low in my mind, “Don’t respond. His aura is no longer clean. The soul-bond is beginning to decay.” Fernando huffed. “Asleep.” I could tell he was making a call. He lowered his voice deliberately, as if afraid to wake me—or maybe afraid to trigger the bond link that hadn’t been fully severed yet. “Can you stop by that cheaper bag store and grab one for me? I need to pacify Thalia. I think she’s been acting jealous over Bianca lately.” Whoever was on the other end said something. He chuckled softly. “No, she doesn’t know about the ceremony. She just heard that Bianca and I got a little close while she was off attending the Border Summoning of the Moon Council.” He laughed again. “Don’t go to that upscale boutique. Those silver-trimmed bags are way too expensive and too durable. Bianca likes that kind of thing, but Thalia? So not worth it.” “Just grab something flashy. Something with sequins. She’s always fallen for stuff like that.” I froze under the blanket. My fingers trembled slightly beneath the covers. Leona’s voice burned inside me: “Did you hear that? You’ve cleansed silver venom for him, stabilized his aura during blood moons, and even used your resonance to calm his wolf when it nearly tore his mind apart—and he sees you as nothing but a convenience.” Fernando kept talking, unaware or unconcerned: “Honestly, I don’t even know why I’ve kept her around. She’s convenient, sure. Loyal. Knows how to brew healing crystals. Can reach the healing witches when I need one. But she’s so dull. No fire. No spark worthy of an Alpha.” Then he added in a quieter voice, “Bianca is the one who truly deserves the Luna title. Her bloodline is refined. She looks like a true Alpha’s match standing at my side.” “Thalia… she’s just comfortable.” “She doesn’t even push back,” he went on. “That’s her value. She’s steady, compliant, emotionally undemanding. She worships me like I’m her Alpha icon.” He yawned. “Alright, get the bag and write one of those sappy letters you’re good at. I’ll leave it on her nightstand. She’ll wake up tomorrow thinking I’m the sweetest mate in the world.” “She still has to attend the Crestmoon Assembly for me next week. I need her in a good mood.” I let out a quiet, bitter laugh. Now I understood why he was suddenly being “thoughtful.” It wasn’t because my soul had shattered. It wasn’t because I had stood by him through his mother’s death and the collapse of his leadership. It was because he needed a manageable, obedient partner to uphold his public image. The person on the other end of the call said something funny, apparently. Fernando burst out laughing. “That’s how it works. Toss in a bit of ritual drama, some sweet talk, and boom—she forgets everything.” He scoffed. I inhaled slightly, involuntarily. Fernando immediately fell silent. “Wait.” His voice dropped to a near-whisper. “I think she moved.” He ended the call and began walking toward me. I forced myself to stay still—even though every fiber of me wanted to leap up and scream his lies back into his face. “Don’t move,” Leona whispered coldly. “Let him believe you’re still the obedient Luna he thinks he owns. It’s the only way he’ll let his guard down.” A few seconds passed. Then he exhaled in relief. “Still asleep. Good.” He climbed into bed beside me, and soon I could hear his breathing settle into a rhythmic sleep. Only once I was certain he was deeply asleep did I allow myself to take a real breath. Then I opened my eyes. All those things he’d said about “her”—he would never understand the sacrifices behind them. I had turned down a high-ranking appointment from the Council of Healing Witches just to stay by his side, to help stabilize his collapsing pack with my abilities. After his mother died, it was me who took over the spiritual grid of the territory using our soul-bond. During the time of pack unrest, I went alone to border negotiations multiple times to stop a full-blown Alpha war. He once whispered promises in my ear, saying he would mark me under the next full moon and announce me as his Luna before the entire pack. Now, he was preparing a mate ceremony with Bianca behind my back—without even the decency of a farewell, without any honor. He was preparing to strip my Luna mark away. The soulstone beside me pulsed faintly. It was a resonance message from Alpha Ross. I wiped away the tears that had silently streamed down my face and opened the message. “Thalia, just say the word when you’re ready. I’ll come get you—with not a drop of shame.” A tiny smile tugged at the corner of my lips. And in that moment, just for a breath, I almost forgot what heartbreak felt like.

Alpha Fernando’s punch landed hard on my face. I looked up and met his eyes. “You hit me.” He frowned, jaw clenched. “You hurt Bianca. You should apologize.” “She’s a Beta. I’m just a Gamma,” I said coldly. “You really think I could hurt her?” Fernando’s face darkened. “Apologize, Thalia. Now.” I narrowed my eyes. A low laugh escaped me. “Over my dead body.” I could feel my wolf soul, Leona, roaring beneath my skin. She was clawing at my bones. Her growl echoed in my mind: “The bond is broken. He no longer deserves you.” I turned and walked away. But Bianca wasn’t done. In her sickly-sweet voice, she cried out, “Ow, my head hurts,” and collapsed dramatically into Fernando’s arms. “She attacked me. Tore my shoulder channel open.” She bit her lip, playing the perfect victim. Fernando turned his full attention to her. “We’ll go to the healer’s tent. They’ll take care of you.” I went back to my quarters. Opened the closet. Pulled out my suitcase. The silver ring Fernando gave me. The moon pendant. That tiny bottle of so-called “Southern incense oil” he claimed he brought back from the borderlands. I threw them all into the trash. I remembered that scent. Bianca wore it too. He returned to find the suitcase open. He paused. “What are you doing?” I looked up, gave a stiff, polite smile. “Clearing things. I don’t need them anymore.” He stepped closer, eyeing the pile of folded clothes. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?” “They’re just items,” I replied blandly. Relief flickered in his expression. “Bianca says she doesn’t want things to stay like this between you two.” I laughed. Sharp enough to cut. “She’s willing to forgive me?” He raised his hand, hesitated, then dropped it. “Don’t talk about her like that.” I said nothing and kept packing. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I swear.” I let out a short breath through my nose. “Let me make it up to you,” he said. “Dinner at your favorite spot? The lake place with the spicy noodles. Friday night. Like we used to.” I faked a smile. “Sure. What time?” “Six?” “Perfect.” That evening, I changed into a white dress. Light makeup. My dark hair tied into a loose knot. It was chilly out, so I threw on a grey knit shawl. We sat at the lakeside trattoria. The wooden deck glowed under soft yellow lights. The spicy noodles still burned the same way. Fernando ordered me a mocktail. Poured the water. Handed me tissues. Like we were pretending the past hadn’t burned down. I opened my mouth to speak—then I heard a voice I knew too well. “Alpha Fernando!” Bianca strutted in, wrapped in a tight red dress. Her heels clicked against the wood. Her gaze slid over me with challenge. “Bianca? What are you doing here?” “I got bored alone,” she said, fluttering her lashes. “Thought I’d go for a walk. Didn’t expect to find you two.” She stumbled—somehow—and the red wine in her hand splashed straight across my chest. The wine soaked my dress. The stain bloomed, dark and vivid. “Oh no! I’m so sorry! That was an accident,” she said quickly, eyes gleaming. Fernando’s face darkened. “Can’t you be careful? You always make a scene.” I stared at him, stunned. “Did you not see her do that on purpose?” Bianca’s eyes welled. “Don’t blame her, Alpha. It was my fault.” Fernando put an arm around her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you changed.” I slammed my hand on the table and stood. “You owe me an explanation!” “You’re always like this,” he muttered, annoyed. “Dramatic.” Then he walked out with Bianca, not looking back once.

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At my son Leo’s funeral, my phone screen flickered. It connected to a video call from three years ago. Jack O’Rourke. He sat in our old crumbling apartment, gripping a sonogram from Boston Women’s Hospital, giddy as a kid. “Ellie! Sweetheart, is our baby adorable or what? Did the doctor say boy or girl? He’s got my nose, right?” I listened through my earbuds to every word. Said nothing. His smile froze bit by bit. The door to the viewing room flew off its hinges. Jack O’Rourke, three years later, strode in. Custom suit. Cologned to death. He ripped the white rose wreath off the doorframe and hissed at me. “Eleanor. A fake funeral. For Twitter. Using our son. For clicks. Do you have a single shred of decency left?” I looked down at my phone. The man on the screen from three years ago had gone pale, lips bloodless. I turned the camera. Pointed it at the tiny walnut casket. And I answered the younger man’s questions. One by one. “Adorable. A boy. Adored you.” “But he’s dead.” *** On the screen, Jack from three years ago looked like he’d been struck by lightning. His eyes went red. He shook his head, over and over. “No. God, no. This isn’t real. This can’t be real.” The Jack standing in front of me saw I was still holding my phone and snapped. He lunged for it. “Eleanor Wentworth! You’re saying Leo is dead? You haven’t shed a single tear, and you’re on a video call with—” He looked down. The man on the screen wore a flannel shirt. Looked exactly like him. Younger by a few years. Staring back at him. Jack froze. Two seconds passed. He let out a cold laugh. “A few days in a psych ward and your brain is completely fried? You made some AI deepfake to make me jealous? To guilt-trip me?” The younger Jack opened his mouth to speak. The screen went black. Signal dead. Jack tossed my phone onto the pew and stared down at me. “I don’t care what game you’re playing. Heather can’t sleep anymore because of those anonymous posts you made calling her a murderer. She’s getting torn apart online. You’re coming with me right now to apologize in person. Say you made it all up.” A low laugh escaped me. Heather Dunn destroyed my home. Killed my son. And I was supposed to apologize to my son’s murderer because I didn’t have the kind of evidence that held up in a boardroom. Jack caught my laugh. Something flickered in his eyes. He waved at the two men by the door. They hauled me up and shoved me into a black Cadillac Escalade at the curb. The car climbed into a Back Bay penthouse. The door opened. Heather glided out holding a glass. Murky liquid. Sharp chemical stench. “Ellie, you must have suffered so much in that place.” Her voice was syrup laced with poison. “I got this detox formula from a naturopath. Drink it while it’s hot.” She looked past me, scanning the doorway. No Leo. “Where’s Leo? He’s missed his heavy metal detox drops for days now. It’ll mess up his autism intervention progress. Have the nanny bring him back for his medicine.” She had the nerve. Blood roared in my ears. I slapped the glass out of her hand. Aside from his autism diagnosis, every pediatric checkup had shown Leo was physically healthy. But Heather insisted she’d learned about natural medicine on some holistic forum and pumped him full of her homemade detox garbage day after day. My Leo was three years old. Cause of death: acute liver and kidney failure. The reeking liquid splattered across Heather’s silk nightgown. She shrieked. Jack lunged. Shoved me aside. Shielded her behind him and frantically checked her skin for burns. I hit the floor. Shards of glass. Pooling liquid. Slivers bit into my palm. Pain. Nothing compared to the tearing in my chest. Jack wrapped his arms around Heather and yelled for a private doctor. I called his name. Quiet. “Jack. Do you know that her detox cocktails killed our son?” His stride faltered. I waited for him to turn. Even a flicker. He turned. His eyes were ice. “An autistic child who couldn’t even string a sentence together. Maybe this is for the best. Stop using him as a prop for sympathy.” My heart stopped. I sat in the wreckage, hollowed out, and laughed. I’d actually hoped a cold-blooded Silicon Valley venture capitalist could feel something for a son he saw as defective. Stupid. My phone lit up where it had fallen on the carpet. Video call ringing again. I swiped. The younger Jack saw my bloodless face, my bleeding hands, and his eyes went red. His voice shook. “Ellie? What happened? What did he do to you?”

I stared into the screen. I wanted to know too. How the American dream turned into this nightmare. Jack and I were the couple everyone envied at Boston University. Him, a Southie scholarship kid scraping by. Me, a Beacon Hill old-money heiress. Two worlds. Stupidly in love. I gave up my trust fund for him. Cut ties with my parents. Moved into his freezing apartment. He worked himself to death in a tech incubator, coding all night, chasing investors, just to prove I hadn’t made a mistake. And then it felt like God finally looked our way. His company landed a Series A from Sequoia. He started flying to the West Coast constantly. Endless meetings. That was when I got pregnant. We barely had time to set up the nursery. Juggling investors and a newborn. I told myself it was worth it. Sacrifices were just the price of the dream. Until Leo turned two. Boston Children’s Hospital. Severe autism diagnosis. Jack stood on the apartment balcony that night and burned through a full pack of cigarettes. The first time Leo ran toward him with open arms, Jack looked right through him. I met Heather at a charity gala. Medical debt. Family drug history. About to lose her housing. I felt for her. Paid her community college tuition. Even placed her as an admin assistant at Jack’s company. She sat across from me at a Starbucks, tears streaming down her face, swearing she’d work hard and repay my kindness. Then, the day before Thanksgiving. I was picking Leo up from his ABA therapy clinic. Jack wasn’t answering his phone. Leo was melting down, crying for his dad. I drove to the office. Pushed open the frosted glass door of the CEO suite. I saw Jack. Heather. Pinned against that mahogany desk. Tangled together. My stomach heaved. The world shattered. I grabbed the coffee mug off his desk and hurled it at him. He didn’t even duck. Hot coffee soaked his shirt. I reached for her. The trembling, half-dressed mess beside him. I swung. Asked her if she had a single shred of shame. Jack shoved me. My head hit the edge of the marble coffee table. Blood ran down my forehead. Leo screamed at the violence. Fever spiked that night. After the glass shattered, Jack stopped pretending. Heather moved into our house in the suburbs. Paraded around my kitchen wearing Jack’s shirts. Smirked at me. I swallowed it. Leo’s special ed and intervention costs were astronomical. I had no leverage. Until Heather went off the rails. Discovered natural medicine on some forum. Decided Leo didn’t need doctors. Just her detox concoctions. I refused. Threatened to call Child Protective Services. Heather collapsed into Jack’s arms, tears flowing on cue. “Jack, does Ellie think I’m hurting Leo?” Jack’s gaze cut to me. He ordered two of the household staff to hold Leo down. Then he pried open Leo’s mouth with his own hands and poured that bottle of unlabeled chemicals down his throat. I screamed. Fought. Nothing. To shut me up for good, Jack terminated every single one of Leo’s treatments at Boston Children’s. Canceled his health insurance. I hit my limit. Hit desperation. I leaked everything to Reddit and a few gossip outlets. Recordings. Photos. The affair. The abuse. I thought social media fury would force his hand. I underestimated money. Jack’s PR team rolled in. Bought off journalists. Flipped the story. I was a postpartum depressive who couldn’t accept my son’s diagnosis and fell into alternative medicine quackery. They doxxed me. Tore me apart online. And as punishment, Jack hired top-shelf psychiatrists and had me forcibly committed. Locked in a psychiatric ward. Sedatives. Restraints. Electroshock. I swallowed every single humiliation just to get out and see Leo. When my lawyer finally got me released, I clawed my way home. Leo was alone in that freezing room. Barely breathing. Skin and bones. I rushed him to the ER. The doctors said heavy metal detoxifiers had destroyed his liver and kidneys. Nothing they could do. That night in the ICU. Nothing but the beeping of machines. I held Leo. Felt his warmth slip away. He closed his eyes. Eyes that looked so much like Jack’s. My son died in this world of lies. I dragged my own broken body through the cremation arrangements. Opened Instagram. Heather’s story. The night Leo stopped breathing in my arms, his father and the woman who killed him were curled up in front of a fireplace in Aspen. Champagne. Kissing. These memories cut like rusted knives. I surfaced. My face was wet. On the screen, the younger Jack’s eyes were raw. He punched the drywall behind him. A hole caved in. His voice came out strangled, torn from his ribcage. “Ellie. Tell me what I have to do to stop that bastard.” “What do I do to keep you and our child safe from this?” I looked at him through the screen. Quiet. Absolute. “If you can, go tell me. Three years ago. Go to Planned Parenthood. Book the appointment. End the pregnancy.” If Jack was destined to betray us. Destined to become a cold-blooded monster. I had only one wish. Never let my Leo suffer through this rotten world again. Jack’s eyes went bloodshot. His mouth opened. No sound. He covered his face and broke. The door swung open. Jack, three years later, walked in carrying a custom medical kit. His gaze landed on me. Cold. “End what?”

I ended the call. Expressionless. “Nothing.” Jack’s eyes darkened. He crossed the room and snatched my phone. Scrolled through the video call history. One call. A contact saved as “Jack.” The storm on his face cleared. Replaced by that nauseating, controlling smugness. “I knew it. Playing hard to get. You gave up your entire family for me, Eleanor. You think I’d believe you stopped loving me?” A smirk tugged at his mouth. He scooped me up, half-force, and set me on the Italian leather sofa. Opened the medical kit. Started cleaning the glass cuts on my hands. Gentle. Focused. Like I was a treasure again. Like the night he proposed in Harvard Square. Then he spoke, and the cold hit my bones. “Heather grew up in a trailer park. No education. She just wanted to learn something to prove herself. You set up that charity fund to help her in the first place. You should be happy she’s finding meaning in her life. Right?” I laughed. Cold. Her meaning was paid for with my son’s life. Jack ignored my laugh. Kept talking. “Also, the nanny said Leo’s been much calmer lately. Tomorrow, bring him back from wherever you’ve stashed him. Heather’s treatment regimen can’t be interrupted.” He didn’t believe Leo was dead. Not deep down. He thought I’d hidden the kid at a friend’s house. My heart twisted again. I closed my eyes. Inhaled. Said it again. “He’s not coming back. He’s really dead. Ashes.” Jack’s face went cold. He stared at me. Pure disappointment. “Eleanor. You’re hopeless. Is your paranoid delusion flaring up again?” He snapped the medical kit shut. Stood. Walked away without looking back. The next morning, I came down the stairs. Two thick-necked guards pinned me to the marble dining table. Heather approached with a glass of murky green liquid. Her smile was poison dipped in honey. “Ellie, I paid a fortune online for this herbal nerve repair tonic. It’ll do wonders for your mental state. Drink up.” I smelled rancid essential oils. Fought hard. Jack sat at the head of the table, reading the Wall Street Journal. He folded the paper. Looked at me. “Since you insist on hiding Leo, you can test Heather’s new formula.” I stared at him. Disbelief. He knew. He’d always known Heather was no naturopath. No doctor. And he used our son as a lab rat anyway. He didn’t care if those concoctions destroyed Leo’s liver. He only cared about feeding her pathetic vanity. He caught my look of despair. His eyes flickered. Just for a second. He gave a slight nod. The guard wrenched my jaw open. Heather poured that foul liquid down my throat. It burned like fire tearing through my stomach lining. I gagged. Choked. Tears streaming involuntarily down my face, splattering on the floor. Jack didn’t flinch. He cut a piece of eggs Benedict and fed it to Heather. Complimented her cooking. The chemicals hit fast. Fever spiked. My abdomen seized. I curled up on the guest room bed. Every organ felt like it was being dissolved in acid. Through the haze, a cold cloth pressed against my forehead. The pain backed off a notch. Hours passed. I clawed back a shred of consciousness. Jack’s voice in the hallway. Sharp. Pacing. His PR director, frantic. “Jack, Twitter and Reddit just exploded. Heather’s getting destroyed. Recordings. Saying she murdered your stepson with fake medicine to climb the ladder. Trending everywhere. Pre-market stock is tanking.” I heard Jack’s voice go cold as steel. He hung up. He dialed again. Roared at his head of IT. “Take those posts down. Now. Whatever it costs.” The voice on the other end stammered. “Sir, the posts were sent from your private VPN credentials. The system shows you personally set the irrevocable command.” Jack’s breathing stopped. “Goddammit. Get a black-hat hacker. Force delete them. Now.” He hurled his phone. Shoved the guest room door open. Met my eyes. His chest heaved. He grabbed me off the bed. Snarling. “Eleanor. When did you become this vicious?” “You know what online mobs do to people. You’re trying to destroy Heather.” I shook my head. Weak. “It wasn’t me.” Jack laughed. Disbelief and rage. “Who else? You bugged the whole house, didn’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Issued the order. “Tomorrow. Ten a.m. Press conference. You will stand in front of every media outlet and say it was your psychiatric episode. You imagined everything. And you will apologize to Heather publicly.” I lifted my bloodshot eyes. “And if I don’t?” A cruel smile cut across Jack’s face. “You keep saying Leo is dead. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll use every connection I have to tear apart wherever you’ve hidden him. And when I find him, don’t blame me when you lose visitation rights. Permanently.” My pupils contracted. He was threatening me with my son. Even if he only believed Leo was hidden. Jack stared down at me, smug certainty in his eyes. He was about to press harder when Heather’s voice floated up from downstairs. Crying his name. Jack let go of me. Turned. Disappeared. I pulled out my phone. Opened the chat with the younger Jack. *Was that you?* The reply came instantly. *Yes.* Another message. *Everyone who hurt you and Leo pays. Every single one of them can rot in hell.* *Including me.*

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The night my mom won her Lifetime Achievement Award, my husband’s mistress crashed the party and AirDropped their sex tape to every phone in the room. Three hundred guests. Black tie. Mom on the stage, holding her crystal trophy, crying happy tears. Then every phone pinged at once. Then the giant screen behind her lit up too. Adrian’s face. Adrian’s hands. Adrian’s voice, moaning a name that wasn’t mine. She walked in through the side doors in a white slip dress. Margot Holloway. Twenty-two. Pharma heiress. Smiling like she’d already won. She grabbed a mic off the stage. “Mrs. Yates.” Her voice purred through the speakers. “Just divorce him already.” The room went dead silent. “He told me I’m so much better in bed than you,” she giggled. “He told me he loves me. Not you.” I heard Mom gasp. I heard the trophy shatter on the floor. Then I heard her hit the stage. Heart attack. Sirens. ICU. Tubes down her throat. A doctor pulling me aside, telling me to “prepare myself.” The last shred of my marriage was gone. In front of every judge, every partner, every reporter Mom had worked with for forty years. I was the joke of Manhattan now. The next afternoon, I booked a suite at the Mandarin Oriental and texted Margot. I’m ready to let him go. Let’s talk. She came. Of course she came. Girls like her can’t say no to a victory lap. I poured her champagne. I picked up the remote. “Watch this with me, sweetie. Live feed. Room right next door.” The screen flickered on. Adrian. Sprawled on a king bed. A dozen women crawling all over him — models, escorts, whatever twenty grand buys at noon on a Tuesday. His eyes were rolled back. His mouth was open. He was making sounds I hadn’t heard in eight years of marriage. I smiled at her. “He looks like he’s having more fun than he ever had with you, Margot. You sure you still want him?” “Celeste, you sick fucking psycho!” She grabbed her water glass and threw it in my face. She was screaming. Screaming for me to stop. Screaming for someone to call the cops. Two bodyguards stepped out from behind me. One twisted her arms behind her back. The other handed me a napkin and poured me a fresh glass. I wiped my face. I picked up the glass. I poured it slowly over the top of her head. The water was hot. She shrieked. “Celeste, how dare you — do you know who my father is — do you—” The earpiece in my ear crackled. “Ms. Vaughn. He’s blacking out.” I glanced at the screen. Adrian’s head had dropped sideways. I checked my watch and clicked my tongue. “That fast? Pathetic. Give him another shot.” A needle slid into his thigh. His eyes flew open. So did the rest of him. A few seconds later, the moaning started again. Margot went white as a sheet. “You’re insane. This is rape. This is a crime—” “Strong word, baby.” My voice was sweet. My eyes were not. “I’m just helping my husband take care of his needs. Since clearly you weren’t getting the job done.” She flinched. Then she broke. “Okay — okay, I’m sorry — I shouldn’t have crashed your mom’s party, I shouldn’t have slept with him, I’ll back off, I swear — but Celeste, please, he’s gonna die in there. Punish me. Don’t punish him.” On the screen, the women kept moaning. But Adrian was sobbing now. Actually sobbing. Begging. I tilted my head. “You really love my husband, huh, Margot.” I leaned in close. “Don’t worry. I’m a fair woman. He cheated. He pays. You? You’re getting off easy.” Two hours later, the earpiece crackled again. “Ms. Vaughn. Even the drugs aren’t working anymore. We have to stop.” I called it. I unlocked Margot’s wrists myself and walked her next door. The second I opened the door, she bolted. She threw herself on him like he was already dead. “Adrian — baby — talk to me — Ade, please—” He couldn’t talk. He was a shaking pile of limbs on a sweaty mattress, staring at the ceiling. I crossed my arms. “Margot. Sweetie. I’m still right here. Don’t you think it’s a little inappropriate to be that close to my husband?” Adrian finally lifted his head. His eyes locked on mine. Pure murder. “Celeste.” His voice was wrecked. “You crazy fucking bitch.” A pause. “I want a divorce.” Adrian’s had a lot of mistresses. A lot of them have shown up at my door. Every single one of them got back exactly what they gave me. I made sure of it. Always on him. But in eight years, he’s never once asked for a divorce. “No,” I said. I looked Margot up and down. Slow. Mean. “Adrian. Don’t you forget. Five years ago, I gave you the door. You begged me to stay. You put my mother in the hospital begging me to stay. And now you wanna walk out with her?” I laughed. “Keep dreaming, baby.”

Turns out Margot really is different. For eight years, no matter what I did to Adrian, he took it. Quietly. Like a man who knew he deserved it. Not this time. This time, he pressed charges. Margot walked into the NYPD precinct waving her phone like it was a press badge. She played the video. She told them I’d kidnapped Adrian. Drugged him. Forced strangers to assault him. “Officer, she’s an attorney.” She was practically jumping up and down. “She knows the law and she still did this. People like her shouldn’t be allowed to practice. You have to arrest her. Now.” The cop turned to me. Calm. Tired. “Ma’am. Is any of that true?” I shook my head. “None of it. She’s been sleeping with my husband for months. She wants me out of the way. I said no to a divorce. So they cooked this up together.” The cop’s eyes slid back to Margot. The disgust on his face was instant. Margot panicked. “I have video! I have a witness!” One phone call. Ten minutes. A girl from the suite walked in, eyes down, voice shaky. She confirmed everything. Said I’d hired her. Said I’d handed out the drugs. She even pulled the empty vial out of her purse. Margot lit up like Christmas morning. “Witness. Evidence. Celeste, what else you got?” I didn’t say a word. I just started laying things on the desk. Adrian’s texts. Adrian setting up the meet. Hotel security footage of Adrian opening the door for each girl, one by one. Receipts. The drugs were ordered from his Amex. The suite was booked under his name. He’d booked it four times last month alone. Every single piece pointed one way. Adrian threw a party. Adrian’s party got out of hand. Adrian tried to pin it on me. Margot’s face went red. “These are fake. Ade would never—” “Oh, sweetie.” I pressed a hand to my chest like it hurt. “You really don’t know my husband, do you? He’s just like this. Honestly, you’re young. Get out while you still can.” She didn’t take it as advice. She took it as a slap. She started shrieking. Forgery. Run the prints. Run the metadata. Check everything. They did. Nothing came back on me. And then the girl — the “witness” — broke. She pulled out her Venmo. Five grand from Margot two nights ago. Memo line: thx girl. She admitted Margot paid her to lie. Margot’s face went chalk white. “You little bitch — you were the one riding him the hardest that night—” She lunged. I stepped in front of the girl. “Margot. Honey. She just did you a favor. Don’t hit your own witness. That’s bad manners.” Margot froze. She looked at the girl. She looked at me. She looked at how close we were standing. The lightbulb finally went on. “…You two. You’re working together.” I smiled. She screamed at the cops for another twenty minutes. None of it mattered. They told her to come back when she had actual evidence. Then they walked us out. I sent the girl home in an Uber. I’d barely turned around before Margot stormed up and slapped me across the face. “Adrian doesn’t love you, Celeste. He hasn’t loved you in years. And you’re still hanging on him like a leech. You have no shame.” Here’s the thing about me. Eye for an eye. Tooth for a tooth. She wasn’t done speaking before I grabbed a fistful of her hair and slapped her back. Twice. Hard. “I’m the one with no shame? You played a sex tape at my mother’s award night, sweetie. Sit with that for a second.” She should’ve screamed. Should’ve slapped me back. Instead, she smiled. A weird, slow, crooked smile. “Adrian was right. You really do care about Mommy the most.” My stomach dropped. “Margot. Listen to me.” My voice came out low. “I’ve always said cheating’s the man’s fault. That’s why I go after Adrian. Never you. But if you touch my mother — I swear to God, I will end both of you.” “Oh yeah?” Her smile widened. Pure poison. “And how are you gonna do that, Celeste?” She tilted her head. “Aren’t you a little curious why Adrian didn’t show up today?” My heart slammed against my ribs. I snatched a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. Hard enough to make her yelp. My phone rang. I picked up. And every drop of blood in my body went cold.

They threw my mother out of the hospital. By the time I got there, she was slumped in a wheelchair in the ER lobby. No IV. No monitor. No one watching her. A nurse pulled me aside, voice low. “A guy came in this morning. Said he was your husband. Signed her out. Told us he was moving her to a private place uptown.” “And?” “And then he wheeled her into the lobby and walked out. We’ve been calling you for an hour. Your phone wouldn’t connect.” She’d tried to get Mom readmitted herself. Front desk said no. Spouse or blood family only. Adrian. It had to be Adrian. Mom’s lips were already turning purple. I didn’t have time to scream yet. I sprinted straight to the attending’s office. He wouldn’t even look at me. “Ms. Vaughn. I’m sorry. We can’t take her back.” “Excuse me?” “Her condition’s too unstable—” “Last night you told me she was stable. Last night you said we could do the surgery Friday. Last night.” He took a step back. “Ms. Vaughn, please calm down. These things change. A patient can be fine one hour and—” “If she’s that critical, then why the hell did you let someone wheel her out the front door?” He shrugged. He actually shrugged. “Her husband insisted. We respect the family’s wishes.” I stared at him. Two minutes of this and a five-year-old could’ve put it together. Someone got to him. Someone with a lot more money than me. I walked out and called Adrian. He picked up on the second ring. “Babe.” “What did you do.” “Teaching you a lesson.” Not even a pause. “Margot’s right. I’ve been too soft on you for too long. That’s why you think you can walk all over me. Time to take my manhood back.” I lost it. “Your manhood? You’re killing my mother for your manhood? Adrian. Do you remember who picked you up off the street? Do you remember who fed you?” I still couldn’t believe it. Not him. Not to her. He was ten years old when his parents threw him out. He almost froze to death on a curb in Trenton. My mom pulled over. My mom took him home. My mom put food in front of him. The line went quiet. He wavered. I heard it. “…Okay. Listen, Cel—” “Ade. No. Don’t tell me you’re caving already.” Margot. In the background. Of course. “You forgot what we’re doing this for, baby.” A long pause. Then Adrian came back. Voice like ice. “Celeste. You want her admitted? Sign the divorce papers.” “You forgot what we’re doing this for, baby.” A long pause. Then Adrian came back. Voice like ice. “Celeste. You want her admitted? Sign the divorce papers.” **”Are you fucking kidding me?” I was screaming. “Adrian. Five years ago. You begged her. On your knees. You swore to her — no divorce. Ever. Not until one of us was dead. Remember?”** “And now you want me to sign? While she’s dying in a hallway?” “She wakes up to this, it’ll kill her all over again.” “Not my problem.” His voice was cold water down my spine. “No divorce, no hospital. Your call. Clock’s ticking.” The line went dead. I called back. Phone off. I started working the phones. Mount Sinai. Sorry, no beds. Presbyterian. Not accepting transfers today. Lenox Hill. Cardiology is at capacity. NYU Langone. We can put her on a waitlist. Three weeks. Cornell. We can’t help you, ma’am. Every single one of them. Every single one. My hand started shaking. A second later, my assistant’s email pinged. Margot Holloway — full background. Read this NOW. I opened it in the hallway. Father: Richard Holloway. CEO of Holloway Pharmaceuticals. Twelve-billion-dollar company. Board seats at Mount Sinai and Presbyterian. Biggest private donor to Lenox Hill cardiology in the last decade. Annual six-figure donor at Langone and Cornell. Of course. Margot made one phone call. One. And every hospital in Manhattan slammed its doors on my mother. I slid down the hallway wall. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do. Then I heard the nurse, halfway down the corridor, screaming my name. “Ms. Vaughn! Get over here! She’s not breathing!”

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My phone buzzed incessantly on the bedside table. Message after message rolled in. I glanced down and saw my screen filled with photos and videos—Alpha Xavier and his mistress,Camille Hurlbutt, wrapped in each other’s arms. While I was still in the operating room, fighting for my life, Alpha Xavier was throwing Camille a lavish birthday party at a five-star hotel. Her body was covered in love bites, and she didn’t even bother to hide them. In another video, she wore nothing but a barely-there nightgown, leaning against Xavier’s chest with a smug grin as if said, I’ve won. My wolf roared furiously in my mind. I forced her to calm down, but she refused. “How could our mate be such a disgrace?” she snarled, her voice echoing through my head. “He’s a serial cheater—he should be suffer!” “This might be my punishment for being too greedy,” I let out a bitter laugh and murmured. The door to my hospital room creaked open, and Alpha Duncan, Xavier’s grandfather, entered with a forced optimism expression. Alpha Duncan, unaware of the full extent of his grandson’s cruelty, still held on to a sliver of hope. He placed a stack of documents in front of me—ownership papers granting me shares in the Blue Moon Pack House. “Emma,” Duncan began, his tone heavy with desperation, “Xavier is not a bad man at heart. You are fated mates—you’ve loved him for so many years. Can’t you give him one more chance?” His weathered face softened as he added, “As long as I’m here, no one can take your place as the Luna of Blue Moon Pack.” I didn’t respond. Instead, I pulled out my phone and played the latest video Camille had just sent me. The sounds of their intimacy immediately filled the hospital room. “Alpha Xavier, aren’t you worried about leaving Luna Emma on the street like that? She’s carrying your pup, you know,” Camille cooed, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. Xavier’s lips grazed her neck as he chuckled. “Why would I? You’re the only one I love. Even if she gives birth to my pup, she could never compare to you.” The ruthless betrayal drained the color from Alpha Duncan’s face. His body trembled, veins bulging as he clenched his fists. After what felt like an eternity, he exhaled a long, weary sigh. “We have wronged you,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret. “I will arrange for the Werewolf Council to handle your divorce immediately. In seven days, you’ll be free.” His tone softened as he continued, “As for your mother and the pup’s burial arrangements…” The door opened again, and a nurse entered, cradling a small, lifeless bundle in her arms. My heart clenched painfully at the sight. My pup. My tiny, precious baby who had never even taken a breath. I turned my head away, forcing myself to breathe evenly as tears burned behind my eyes. “Bury the child in the Blue Moon Pack’s Alpha cemetery,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “As for my mother’s ashes… I’ll take them with me.”

Alpha Duncan nodded, his face weighed down by regret. “I was wrong to tie you so closely to the Blue Moon Pack. Go, Emma. See the world beyond our borders. You deserve more than this.” With that, he bent down, cradling the lifeless pup in his arms as if it were made of fragile glass, and left the room. The moment the door clicked shut, the dam inside me broke. Hot, relentless tears streamed down my face, and years of resentment, regret, and heartbreak tumbled out like an avalanche. Alpha Xavier’s marriage to me had been arranged by his grandfather.He needed someone strong enough to rein in his unruly grandson. I needed someone with deep enough pockets to cover my mother’s medical bills. It seemed like a fair exchange at the time. I still remember the first time I stepped into Alpha Duncan’s estate. The scent hit me like a freight train—rich chocolate and cool mint, wrapping around me in a way that made my knees weak. The moment I laid eyes on Alpha Xavier, My wolf had practically howled in my head. “Mate! It’s him!” I quit my job that same week, packed my bags, and walked straight into the role of Luna Emma Greenwood. At first, I thought I’d never get a chance to love my fated mate. But the Moon Goddess blessed me. Over time, I learned more about the Xavier… he was so much more than the cold, distant Alpha people whispered about. Behind his icy exterior was a man broken by his past. His parents had been killed in a rogue attack on his fifth birthday. He’d been just a pup, helpless as he watched the massacre unfold. That scene became the nightmare that haunted his nights, the reason he would wake up screaming, calling for his mother and father. As we spent time together, our two broken souls seemed to resonate with each other. I fell in love with him. I wanted to heal his heart. I wanted to build a happy family with him. So, I poured myself into becoming the perfect Luna. I learned recipes to recreate his mother’s cooking, the warmest memory of his childhood. I dug through family photos to rebuild the little cabin he loved as a pup. I even mastered every trick in bed I could find, hoping that maybe—just maybe—he’d stay in my bed. For a while, I believed we could have a happy future. Then came the first betrayal. Our first wedding anniversary. I’d spent the whole day preparing—candlelit dinner, his favorite roast, everything meticulously planned down to the last detail. He didn’t even bother coming home. Instead, I found him at a five-star hotel. With my best friend. Like a lunatic, I stormed into the hotel, pounding on their door until he finally opened it. I was shaking, crying, screaming for answers. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he shoved the contract I’d signed with Alpha Duncan in my face. “Emma Greenwood,” he sneered, “don’t act so pitiful. You’re nothing but a gold-digging mutt. Did you honestly think that being my Luna meant you could control me?” His words were acid, each one burning as it hit. “You’re just a dog my grandfather bought. What right do you have to question me? Cause a scene, and I’ll pull your mother’s treatment funding in a heartbeat.” I stood there, stunned, the weight of his betrayal suffocating me. And that was just the beginning. Over time, Xavier grew more brazen. When he tired of my friends, he turned his attention to the female staff at the packhouse. I was trapped—caught between my mother’s medical bills and a mate who was determined to grind my soul into dust. One day, lost in thought, I missed a step on the stairs and tumbled down. That’s when I discovered I was pregnant. Alpha Duncan was the first to know. He almost begging. “Emma, please. Keep the pup. Maybe this baby will change Xavier’s heart. If he doesn’t… I swear, I won’t make you stay any longer.” Even Overwhelmed by everything,But I was still greedy enough to crave my fated mate’s love. I agreed. I gave it everything I had. I fought harder than I ever thought possible. For my pup. For my marriage. For a sliver of hope. But in the end, I lost it all—my mother, my child, my marriage, and any shred of dignity I’d tried to hold onto.

I wiped away my tears and gazed at the gray sky outside the window. Perhaps the only solace was that Alpha Xavier and I were finally free. Perhaps our mate bond was a mistake from the very beginning—just a cruel joke played by the Moon Goddess. Just as I was lost in thought, my phone rang. It was him-Alpha Xavier. “Emma,” his voice spat venom. “Did you go crying to Grandpa again? You ruined my night with Camille! I’m warning you—if you pull this stunt again, I’ll freeze your credit cards!” I used to crumble at his threats, begging and apologizing, desperately trying to smooth over the cracks in our broken bond. But today? Today, I didn’t have the energy. “Do whatever you want.”I merely responded with an indifferent tone. There was a brief silence on the other end—clearly, he hadn’t expected that. But he recovered quickly, his sneer practically oozing through the phone. “I heard you gave birth at the hospital. Having a pup really gave you confidence, huh? But don’t forget—I’m the Alpha of the Blue Moon Pack. As long as you’re part of this pack, I can make your life a living hell.” I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to steady myself. He didn’t need to remind me. I already knew exactly how far he was willing to go. The first time I caught him in bed with another woman, I naively sought justice from his grandfather. All I received in return was his twisted revenge. That same night, Xavier dragged me out onto the freezing balcony and forced me to kneel. My mother’s medical bills were dangled over my head as he ordered me to slap myself repeatedly. The memory burned as vividly as if it had happened yesterday. My wolf, whimpered at the recollection. She had wanted to lunge at him, but I’d held her back. We couldn’t afford to lose control. That night, as I shivered in agony from my mate’s betrayal, their moans echoed through the house. I trembled until I passed out. By morning, my face was swollen, my body frostbitten. I was taken to the hospital. From that day on, whatever love I had left for him disappeared into the snow. After that, no matter how cruel he became, I pretended not to see it. I endured every humiliation, every insult. I forced myself to play the role of the perfect Luna of the Blue Moon Pack. But now, my mother was gone. So was my pup. And this marriage? It wasn’t just dead—it was buried six feet under and rotting. I hung up the phone without another word. Then, I stood up and contacted a friend at the funeral home to arrange the cremation. When I returned to my hospital room, Alpha Xavier was standing at the door. “Emma,” he drawled, his arms crossed and a smirk plastered on his face. “No more playing the victim?” I stepped past him without a word, but he wasn’t done. “Running around so soon after giving birth?” He leaned against the doorframe, his tone mocking. “You must be in great health. Guess you don’t need any time to rest or recover.” He stepped closer, his voice dripping with malice. “I’ve decided to move Camille into the villa. She’s young, delicate, and doesn’t know how to do chores. You’ll resign from your duties as Luna of the packhouse and come home to be our maid instead.” Leaning in, he flashed a cruel smile. “Seeing you in pain is the greatest aphrodisiac.” He stared at me, expecting to see anguish, devastation. But there was nothing. I met his gaze with an expression so blank it could have been carved from stone. When he realized there was nothing left of me to break, the amusement vanished from his face. He turned to the nurse. “The pup—where is it? Boy or girl? Bring it here. I want to see my child.”

I sighed and my arms leaned against the hospital bed for support. “Grandfather took the child away.” Alpha Xavier looked like he wanted to say something, but his phone rang. The moment he picked up, his face twisted in rage. “WHAT?!” He bellowed, the volume loud enough to rattle the water glass on my nightstand. Without warning, he spun toward me, his eyes blazing with fury. “What did you do to Camille?” he roared. “If anything happens to her, I swear you’ll regret it!” The slap came out of nowhere, the force sending me reeling into the cold metal of the bed’s railing. Pain shot through my body, already fragile from giving birth, and the impact left me gasping. The nurse rushed forward, her hands trembling as she helped steady me. “Alpha Xavier! She just gave birth! Do you want to kill her?” But Xavier didn’t care. His focus was solely on Camille’s voice still squawking through the phone. With one last withering look in my direction, he stormed out, leaving me to crumple back onto the bed. The nurse stayed by my side, her warm hands clasping mine. Her eyes glistened with sympathy, but I couldn’t muster a single tear. The emptiness in my chest stretched so wide, I wondered if it had swallowed my soul. Eight years of this. Eight years of love twisted into something unrecognizable. After an examination, the doctor ordered me to rest. It was then that I finally understood why Xavier had lost his temper. The child had died. Grandfather, devastated, used his influence to exile Camille from Blue Moon Pack in a fit of vengeful grief. Desperate, she had assumed I was behind it. Sobbing, she ran to Xavier, exaggerating and fanning the flames of his fury—leading to the slap. But it didn’t end there. Xavier stripped me of my Luna title during the next pack meeting, proclaiming Camille as the new “acting Luna.” As if that wasn’t enough, he launched a twelve-day public love campaign to “To honor their love.” Alpha Xavier plastered across every screen in the pack lands, grinning like a lovesick fool while presenting Camille with jewelry, flowers, and cringe-worthy poems. During an interview, Camille smiled sweetly, flaunting her new diamond ring. “I don’t consider myself a mistress. If a woman can’t hold onto her husband’s heart, she has no one to blame but herself.” She stroked the ring with her fingers, her voice laced with mockery. “Besides, Luna Emma married for money. But me? I love Alpha Xavier with all my heart.” The internet exploded. Her fans showered her with praise, while others condemned her shamelessness. Some even flooded my account with insults, demanding that I step aside for her. I stared at my phone, but what I felt wasn’t anger—it was… irony. After all these years, Xavier’s tactics for wooing women hadn’t changed a bit. Thinking back, he had done the same for me. When he learned that I had grown up poor and had never celebrated a birthday, For my twentieth birthday, he showered me with twenty extravagant gifts—everything from a gold necklace to a villa overlooking the Blue Moon Pack. “Emma,” he had said, holding my hand beneath the starry sky, “I lost my parents when I was young. But from now on, I’ll treat your mother as my own. Together, we’ll build the happiest family.” I had melted in the warmth of his gaze. I had foolishly believed I had finally found the one I could spend my life with. After all, we were fated mates. Our bond was supposed to be unbreakable. But love has an expiration date. The moment the novelty wore off, he turned to someone else. I still remember the night he abandoned me in the mountains during what was supposed to be our date. He claimed “urgent pack business” and left me to hike back alone. Hours later, I discovered he’d gone to deliver flowers to his latest mistress. That night, I shifted into my wolf form, thinking it would ease the trek. Instead, I tore my paws on jagged rocks until they bled, limping home in the dark. The scars on my legs serve as a permanent reminder of how low I stooped for his affection. Looking back, I should have known. A selfish, sentimental man like him was never meant to love just one woman. Our marriage had never been anything more than an excuse for his infidelity.

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Before the wedding, Alpha Kendrick stood before me, his jaw tight, his eyes shadowed with a storm of hesitation and hope. “Can you give me a month?” he asked, his voice low, almost pleading. “A month for what?” I shot back, my tone sharper than I intended, though my heart already braced for the answer. He exhaled deeply, ignoring the edge in my voice. “A month to try rekindling my relationship with Elena Manwaring. She’s my fated mate, and… this might be the Moon Goddess’s blessing.” Ah, fated mate. I should’ve guessed. Kendrick and I were never fated mates. I was his convenient choice, never his destined one. “So, if it doesn’t work out, then what? Another month?” I tilted my head, forcing a faint smile that practically screamed, Go ahead. Rip my heart out. “If it doesn’t work,” he said, his gaze steady, “I’ll come back to you. I’ll marry you and leave her behind—forever.” “Forever,” I echoed, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. Zara, my wolf, growled faintly in the back of my mind. Let me claw him. Just once. But I didn’t argue. Instead, I gave him the faintest of smiles and replied, “Go ahead. Give it a try. Life’s too short for regrets, right?” Relief washed over his face, so palpable it made my chest tighten. That night, he drove off, lighter and freer than I’d seen him in years. And me? I quietly packed my belongings. I called home. “Mom,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me, “the wedding’s off. I’m coming home to help with the Moon Eclipse Pack.” My mother didn’t even feign surprise. If anything, she sounded downright gleeful. “Finally! Your father and I always said that man wasn’t reliable. Ten years, and he still couldn’t commit!” she scoffed. “Honestly, sweetheart, we thought you’d lost your mind.” I let her rant, offering a few hums here and there. “Perfect timing,” she added. “The pack just allied with the Blue Moon Pack, and they’re looking for an experienced wolf trainer. I’ll set everything up.” “Sure,” I murmured, cutting the conversation short. The thought of diving into training rogue wolves or mentoring pups sounded perfect—anything to keep my mind occupied. I glanced around my apartment, taking in the scattered wedding souvenirs. Personalized candles. Silk napkins embroidered with our initials. Zara huffed again. Ten years with that jerk. Ten years of being second choice. You should’ve let me bite him. I said nothing, just stared at the remnants of a dream I had built and lost. It hadn’t always been like this. Once, I believed in Kendrick. I stood by him when his pack struggled, when he had nothing to offer but empty promises. I turned down my rightful place as Alpha of the Moon Eclipse Pack to stay by his side. I had a choice. I could’ve gone home, inherited my pack, and become Alpha. Instead, I chose him. Without hesitation. His Red River Pack was small, insignificant, a speck along the Mississippi River. Nothing compared to my family’s power. But I didn’t care. I just wanted him. I imagined a life together—building something from the ground up, proving that love was stronger than destiny. So, I waited. While my friends built their lives—marrying, having kids, moving on—I stayed. I turned down every opportunity my parents offered and let year after year slip by, waiting for him to finally say, “Let’s get married.” Reunions were the worst. “So, when’s the wedding?” someone would always ask, followed by laughter. My friends covered for me, claiming I just wasn’t ready for the “grave of marriage.” I played along, smiling and pretending it didn’t sting. But deep down, I wanted it more than anything. To be Luna in more than just name. To be his partner. His future. But the truth was, Kendrick wasn’t waiting for the right time. He was waiting for her. The Return of Elena Manwaring Three months ago, Elena came back. I ignored the signs because Kendrick proposed to me. Suddenly, he threw himself into wedding plans. He helped pick out the dress, sat through endless food tastings, and obsessively debated wedding favors. He was attentive. Patient. Always there. And I let myself believe it was real. That he had finally chosen me. That illusion shattered one late night. I woke to the faint glow of light beneath his study door. Curiosity—or perhaps something more desperate—led me down the hall. Quietly, I peeked inside. He wasn’t working. No spreadsheets, no maps. No Alpha duties. In his hands were Elena’s things: a scarf, a journal, and a trinket box she’d left behind. He held them like treasures, his fingers brushing the scarf’s fabric with an unbearable tenderness. The look on his face—a mix of longing and love—made my stomach twist. It was the kind of look you give someone who owns your heart. Someone you’ve never let go. I froze in the doorway, torn between stepping inside and walking away. He didn’t see me—too absorbed in the memories those objects carried. And in that moment, I saw everything. The way his shoulders slumped under an invisible weight. The quiet sigh that slipped past his lips. This wasn’t just nostalgia. It was longing. This was about Elena. Her ghost—or at least the memory of her—hung heavy in the air. Whether Kendrick and I got married or not didn’t depend on love or destiny. It depended on her. On whether she decided to take him back. And me? I was just a placeholder. A stand-in. The second choice. They say the things we can’t have in our youth haunt us forever. If a missed opportunity or a forgotten dream can ache like that, how much worse must it be for someone who once meant everything? I stepped back into the shadows before he could notice me and returned to our bedroom. The bed felt too big. Too cold. I lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself I didn’t care. But the tightness in my chest told a different story. The days leading up to the wedding blurred into chaos. Flowers. Seating arrangements. The Luna ceremony rehearsal. I threw myself into every detail, hoping the frenzy would drown out my doubts. I told myself it was fine. That Kendrick’s occasional distracted glances and absentminded smiles didn’t mean anything. That his late nights in his study were just wedding stress. Then, one afternoon, we received a shipment of wedding souvenirs—delicate, hand-painted glass favors engraved with our initials. I picked up one of the boxes and frowned. The packaging was careless, the wrappings half-done. One of the glass favors tumbled out, landing in my palm. It was beautiful, no doubt. But as I stared at the etched initials—K&E—my breath caught in my throat. K&E. Not Kendrick and Me. Kendrick and Elena. My fingers tightened around the fragile glass as the truth crashed over me. This wasn’t an accident. It was a sign. And in that moment, the delicate favor shattered between my fingers, sharp edges cutting into my palm. But I barely felt the pain. Because the real wound was deeper. It had been there all along.

By the time I decided to request a return for the souvenirs, the merchant’s stubbornness had worn me down. After what felt like hours of fruitless arguing, I gave up. The souvenirs were coming home with me—packed or not. It was nearly 3 AM by the time I finally sat down to finish wrapping them. My muscles ached, my eyelids were heavy, and exhaustion tugged at me like a relentless tide. Still, I pushed through. Alpha Kendrick wasn’t back yet. He’d gone to another pack for an event, and his flight had landed hours ago. Just as I reached for my phone to check on him, the front door unlocked with a soft click. He walked in carrying a bouquet of fresh flowers and a box of gifts, his presence warm but strangely heavy. He greeted me as he always did, with a soft kiss on the cheek. “Felicia,” he began, his voice gentle but tinged with something somber. “Thank you for staying with me all these years.” My heart tightened. I knew where this was going. When Kendrick graduated, he had a wild, impossible dream. He didn’t want to follow the Red River Pack’s traditional path. Instead, he wanted to forge his own. No one believed in him—not his family, not his friends. Except me. I defied my parents, sold the shops and houses under my name, and handed over every penny of my dowry to help him build his dream. I gave up everything for him, believing he was worth it. Time proved me right. Kendrick transformed the Red River Pack into a powerhouse, admired across the Mississippi River territory. Young, successful, and driven—he became everything he’d ever wanted to be. But now, standing before me with that bouquet, he looked like a man ready to sever ties. “I’m moving out,” he said, his tone calm yet resolute. “I don’t want to carry regrets. You wouldn’t want me to still think about someone else after we’re married, would you? If I don’t succeed, I’ll let her go completely. I’ll dedicate myself to you for the rest of my life.” His eyes were red, his voice thick with emotion. It should have moved me. It should have made me feel closer to him. Instead, all I felt was the hollow ache in my chest. How could I say no? I had always known where I stood in Kendrick’s heart—second place, behind Elena. On my eighteenth birthday, when I shifted for the first time, I begged the Moon Goddess for a miracle. I prayed Kendrick would be my destined mate. But fate had other plans. The Moon Goddess chose Elena Manwaring for him—a picture-perfect beauty adored by everyone. At the mate ceremony, they were the golden couple, basking in admiration, while I endured the searing pain of rejection alone. Then, Elena left. And I saw my chance. I pursued Kendrick relentlessly, ignoring the whispers and judgment. I believed love could be earned through effort alone. From the start, he had been honest. “I still love Elena,” he’d told me. “If that bothers you, you shouldn’t be with me.” I thought I could wait. I thought time would fix everything. But now, as he stood before me, asking for my permission to chase after her, I realized how naive I’d been. “Okay,” I said quietly, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside. “Go.” Kendrick studied my face for a moment before smiling. “Thank you for understanding me,” he said. Then, without hesitation, he turned away, packing his things with an eagerness that made my heart crack. Minutes later, he drove off into the night, leaving behind only the faint scent of his cologne and the echoes of my own foolishness. I glanced at the wedding souvenirs scattered across the floor—once a symbol of hope, now a cruel joke. What a waste. They’d never be sent out. My eyes fell on the bouquet he’d brought. Among the petals, I noticed a small card tucked away. Curiosity prickled, and I hesitated before flipping it over. Elena, long time no see. I hope you’re doing well. The name hit me like a punch to the gut. So, he’d bought two bouquets—one for me and one for her. And in his rush, he’d grabbed the wrong one. How fitting. Without a second thought, I tossed the bouquet into the trash. Later that night, my phone buzzed with a message from my mother. The flight is booked for a week from now. You’ve been with the Red River Pack for so many years—use this time to say goodbye. I stared at the screen for a long moment before typing a single word. Okay. While Kendrick chased his past, I spent my days letting go of mine. I had dinner with friends, revisited familiar places, and wandered the packlands that had once felt like home. Every evening, his calls came in like clockwork. “Felicia, what are you up to? I miss you.” “Nothing much,” I replied, my voice steady. “Just packing up at home.”

I told him the truth. Alpha Kendrick didn’t push for more, though he continued calling, updating me on where he was and what he was doing. He mentioned, almost hesitantly, how nervous he felt about seeing Elena after all these years. It was odd—this routine we’d fallen into. Over time, we’d grown accustomed to sharing everything. Whenever he traveled for work, it was second nature to exchange “I miss you” and recount the trivialities of our days. Even now, as he prepared to reunite with her, he still called me, as though nothing had changed. Habit, I realized, is a cruel master. I let the silence stretch between us for a while. “Are you upset? Why aren’t you saying anything?” he asked, his tone edged with concern. “No,” I replied softly, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “I wish you the best.” How I managed to say it, I’ll never know. He went quiet, the silence thick and heavy, before finally speaking in a low voice. “I’ll come back as soon as I can. No matter what happens, I love you.” For a fleeting moment, I wanted to believe him—maybe I even did. But belief wouldn’t change anything now. This time, I was ready to let go. Three days later, Alpha Kendrick returned. I hadn’t expected him back so soon, but what truly stopped me cold was the sight of who stood beside him. Elena. I remembered our first meeting vividly. Back then, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. Elena was the kind of woman who shattered expectations with reckless ease—a little wild, magnetic in ways that demanded attention. She was stunningly beautiful, radiating confidence and an undeniable charm. The air between us now hung heavy, burdened with years of unspoken history. Her natural charisma was something I could never replicate. Where she embodied freedom, I was a product of discipline and carefully cultivated propriety. She still carried that untamed elegance. A tattoo curled along the curve of her neck, her sunglasses perched casually atop her head, loose curls spilling over her shoulders. “Felicia, long time no see,” she said, her voice familiar but softened by weariness. This wasn’t the same Elena I remembered. She politely asked if she could come in, and though I was too stunned to speak, I stepped aside. As she passed, her arm brushed against a decorative bear wearing a wedding bow tie. The little figure toppled to the floor. Without hesitation, she crouched, retrieved it, and handed it back with a faint, almost apologetic smile. “I forgot to congratulate you,” she said. “I wish you and Alpha Kendrick a happy wedding.” Her words were polite, even kind, but they carried an undercurrent I couldn’t quite place. I nodded, unsure how to respond. Elena’s gaze drifted around the living room, taking in the sparse furnishings. The house felt hollow—most of my belongings had already been sent to the Blue Moon Pack’s territory. What remained were things that belonged to Alpha Kendrick or shared mementos I couldn’t bring myself to sort through. Alpha Kendrick noticed too. His brow furrowed as he glanced around. “Felicia,” he said, confusion coloring his tone, “why does the house feel so empty?” “I’ve just been organizing and clearing out a few things,” I said casually, brushing off his concern with a vague excuse. Elena sat down and removed her sunglasses, revealing deep bruises around her eyes and faint scars etched across her face. In that moment, I understood why she seemed different. The unshakable confidence she once radiated was gone, dulled by hardship and loss. “As you can see,” Elena said softly, her voice steady despite everything, “I’m not doing well.” She told me how her life hadn’t unfolded the way she’d imagined. The rogue king she once called her true love had never planned to marry her. “To him, I was just a passing distraction,” she admitted, bitterness lacing her words. Trapped in the Rogue Lair, she had spiraled into depression, unable to return to the life she once knew. “It wasn’t until I reached out to Alpha Kendrick that things started to change,” she said quietly. “Thanks to his help over the years, I never lost myself completely.” Beside me, Alpha Kendrick tensed. His unease rolled off him in waves. It wasn’t just about her confession. It was the confirmation that they had never truly lost contact. Elena didn’t stop. Her voice remained soft, steady—almost gentle. “Alpha Kendrick spends a month with me every year. Always at the end of the year. Without him, I wouldn’t have made it through.” The words landed like a punch to the gut. Suddenly, everything clicked. His so-called “wolf pack business trips.” The vague excuses every December. The expansion efforts, the alliances he claimed to be securing. None of it had been real. He hadn’t been tending to the pack. He had been with her. Elena glanced at me, gauging my reaction before continuing. “When Alpha Kendrick started growing his pack’s business, I heard you sold your dowry to give him the startup capital. Even from afar, I admired your loyalty.” I said nothing. The weight of her words pressed down like a lead shroud. Loyalty. That’s what I had given him. Unwavering. Absolute. And in return? “I was in trouble at the time too,” Elena admitted, her voice quieter now. “My life was… falling apart. So, Alpha Kendrick sent me $200,000 to help.” The number rang in my ears. $200,000. Suddenly, I remembered the missing funds from the Red River Pack’s accounts. The ones brushed off as a bookkeeping error. It hadn’t been an oversight. It hadn’t been a mistake. It was a secret. A carefully concealed piece of Alpha Kendrick’s life with Elena—one I was never meant to uncover.

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Today was supposed to be my mating day. The day Tristan Veyne would mark me as his Luna, in front of the whole Ashveil Pack. We’d trained together since we were pups. Everyone said we were the perfect match. Future Alpha and Luna. Balanced. Predictable. Safe. I smoothed down the front of my cloak for the hundredth time and glanced toward the entrance again. Still no one. Not a single soul had shown up—not my parents, not my brother Rafe, not even Tristan. Just me, standing alone in the silence. I pulled out my phone and checked for the fifth time. No new messages. My thumb hovered over Tristan’s name before I called again. It rang twice, then went to voicemail. I stared at the screen, unsure whether to laugh or throw it against the stone wall. Then the pack announcement flashed across it: [WELCOME HOME SERA THORNHART] A video auto-played. There they were—my family. All of them. Gathered at the arrival gates of the northern ridge, where the skycrafts landed. My father beamed, my mother teared up, and Rafe had lifted Sera into a spinning hug. Even Tristan was there, standing just behind her. Sera’s golden hair glinted under the lantern lights. Her arm curled tightly around Tristan’s like she belonged there. She always did. My chest burned. A moment later, my phone buzzed again. This time it was Tristan. “Stop being dramatic, Kiera,” he said, his voice dry, like I’d called to complain about the weather. “We’ll do the ceremony later. Sera just got back from Alpha training at Wolfsbane Academy —” The line cut. I stared at the screen, my claws itching to come out. Around me, the ceremonial hall remained silent, filled only with the soft rustle of moonflower petals falling to the floor. I looked down at the cloak I’d spent hours sewing silver threads into. It pooled around me now like shed fur, like something I didn’t deserve to wear. I slipped it off and left it there. The Ashveil Pack buzzed with noise when I returned. Someone had roasted meat on the back grill. Sera’s perfume floated through the halls—rose and sweetleaf, strong enough to push every other scent away. Laughter echoed from the main room. A celebration, loud and thoughtless. No one noticed when I slipped inside through the kitchen door. I went straight to my room, sat on the edge of my bed, and stared at the list I’d written in my journal. A simple list. Every time I’d been forgotten. Overlooked. Passed over. I added another entry at the bottom: Mating ceremony—no one came. A knock slammed against the door. It creaked open, and Rafe stepped inside like he owned the place, his boots heavy on the floor. “There you are.” He looked me over, taking in the fur cloak now folded by my desk and the half-written letter to the Council. “Sera wants your meatloaf. Make it spicy—she says she missed the way you cook it.” I stared at him, hands resting on my lap. “You missed my mating ceremony.” Rafe blinked, then shrugged like it didn’t matter. “It’s just a ritual. You and Tristan can do it next moon, or the one after. Sera’s back, Kiera. We haven’t seen her in a year.” He picked up my journal from the desk, flipped through it without asking. “You still writing this stuff down?” His eyes landed on the fresh page. At the top in bold letters: FINAL WARNING. He snorted. “What’s that supposed to mean? You gonna run away? To be a rogue?” He tossed the journal back onto the bed. “Just make the meatloaf, Kiera.” I stood slowly and walked past him toward the kitchen. My hands stung as I pulled out the meat from the cold box. The new soap they’d brought back for me to use—Sera’s favorite brand—had left red blotches on my skin. Rafe leaned against the wall behind me, watching too closely. “Why are you so quiet?” he asked. “Planning to poison her or something?” Before I could answer, her voice rang out from the main room. “Rafeee! The chestnuts!” He rolled his eyes and muttered, “Coming,” before turning and leaving without a second glance. I washed my hands under cold water, watching the red fade into pale pink. My eyes drifted to the counter. There sat the ceremonial cake I’d ordered. Still untouched. The bonding rings lay beside it, sealed in their velvet box. I didn’t cry. I just stood there for a long time, staring at all the things that were supposed to matter. My wolf had been quiet all day, but now her voice was sharp in my head. Veyla, my wolf, growled low in my chest. “They’ve made their choice,” she said. “So will we.” I looked toward the window. Beyond it, the dark trees of the northern woods swayed gently in the night wind. Sera was back. She had everything. And me? I was done waiting.

I set the meatloaf down on the long oak dining table, the scent wafting through the air like a forgotten promise. Laughter echoed from the living room. Father, usually buried in Alpha Council meetings and Ashveil Pack’s logistics, sat comfortably, listening intently as Sera gushed about her time at Wolfsbane Academy. “We practiced under the pack elder Greyfang,” she said, eyes shining. “He said I had the instincts of a born Alpha—strong enough to lead any pack.” Mother clutched Sera’s hand, eyes shimmering with emotion. “My sweet girl. You’ve lost weight, haven’t you? You need more rest—too much time in training will weaken your wolf and dull your senses.” Rafe sat beside them, still dutifully peeling chestnuts like some Beta servant. I stood quietly at the threshold between the kitchen and living room—watching, never invited. That room was warm, bright, full of voices and attention. This room—mine—was quiet, dim. Forgotten. Sera’s voice rose with performative sweetness. “Kiera, why are you just standing there? Still mad at me for ruining your ceremony?” The conversation screeched to a halt. Three pairs of eyes turned toward me like I was a problem that had just come back. Father’s brow furrowed. “Kiera, come here. Don’t sulk.” Mother gave me that impatient look—the one that always followed whenever Sera cried. “You’re the one who picked that unfortunate date. Sera had just landed, we were all exhausted from the airport run. You know that, don’t you?” Then came the dagger. “If you’re going to be petty with your sister, then you’re no daughter of mine.” Sera gasped, wide-eyed and full of faux concern. “Mom, don’t be so harsh. Kiera will feel hurt…” But her smirk said otherwise. She knew my ceremony date. I told her a week in advance. She even replied: “Can’t wait! Got a surprise planned for you.” Surprise, indeed. Since we were pups, Sera had always managed to turn every situation into a test—one where the pack had to choose. They always picked her. Even my mate chose her. I should’ve felt something—anger, betrayal, sadness. But there was only… stillness. “I’m not angry.” Those three words sliced through the tension like claws through bark. Everyone stared. Father blinked. Mother narrowed her eyes. Sera tilted her head with a mock-confused pout. They had expected a tantrum, not serenity. Which meant… they knew what they did would hurt me. They just didn’t care enough to stop. Father exhaled and forced a smile. “Good. That’s good. We’re a pack. We don’t hold grudges.” “Of course,” I said, nodding with perfect obedience. It was the same voice I used to speak to the Elder wolves during full moon rituals. The relief in their eyes was instant. They turned their attention back to Sera. Dinner began. The maid had added several dishes besides my meatloaf—crab legs, lemon garlic scallops, all Sera’s favorites. “You’re too thin,” Father murmured, piling food onto her plate. “Eat more. You’ll need your strength before the orchestral trial,” Mother added, dabbing her eyes again. Rafe chimed in with a grin. “Don’t worry. If any of those city wolves give you trouble, I’ll rip their throats out.” Sera laughed, her silver hair gleaming in the light. “No need. I’ve got this.” They all chuckled. I ate in silence, the warmth of the meatloaf doing little to thaw the cold within me. Then, for the first time that evening, Mother glanced at me. She hesitated. Picked up a spoonful of meatloaf and placed it on my plate. “Try it. Don’t think we don’t care about you just because we fuss over Sera. I care about you too.” The words felt… rehearsed. Like a line from a script she’d used too often. I looked down at the food, then slowly set my utensils down. “No. I’m full.” Her expression shifted—first startled, then irritated. “What’s wrong with you lately?” She started to say more, but Sera suddenly clutched her throat, eyes wide. “Mom… I… I can’t breathe—” Her voice cracked, breath rasping. She staggered backward, knocking over her chair. Panic erupted instantly. “Sera!” Mother screamed. “What’s happening?!” Father stood so fast the table shook. Rafe was already at her side, sniffing her neck and face for signs of poison, his Beta instincts flaring. “Her scent’s spiking—something’s wrong!” My heart thudded in my chest, not from fear, but from the quiet, twisted irony of it all. In the chaos, no one noticed me standing completely still—just watching. Veyla’s voice stirred faintly in my mind. “She’s not choking, Kiera. She’s shifting. Something inside her is waking.”

Sera’s rash bloomed across her skin like a warning from the moon goddess. “Is this… an allergic reaction?” Father barked, nostrils flaring as he hovered over her convulsing form. “Why would this happen now?” Mother’s gaze snapped to me like a dagger drawn under moonlight. In the next heartbeat, her palm collided with my cheek, sending me sprawling across the tiled floor. “Kiera! What did you put in the food? Have you forgotten your sister’s triggers?!” My head rang. The room swam. I could feel Veyla stir within me, a low growl rising in the depths of my chest. But I shoved her back, swallowing the heat clawing at my throat. Rafe stepped forward, eyes flashing in disbelief. “You were so quiet… so obedient. And now this? You meant to harm Sera.” “How did I end up with a sister like you?” he added, his voice heavy with disappointment. “Enough!” Father slammed his fist on the table, the sound reverberating like thunder. “Get her to the healer now!” The room cleared in a blur—my parents and Rafe carrying Sera out, frantic and breathless, like she was the moon’s own fragile vessel. I was left alone, face throbbing, heart hollow. It wasn’t me. I whispered the words aloud, but they echoed off the silence like lies. They wouldn’t believe me. They never did. Not after everything. I felt something wet and hot on my palm. The maid had returned, her eyes wide as she caught sight of my hands. “Lady Kiera… your hands… they’re—swollen.” I looked down. Red lines bloomed across my skin like fire veins. “I’m fine,” I lied, brushing past her. In my room, I reached for an old leather-bound notebook. As I opened its worn cover, the scent of old ink and pine dust rose—memories not even the wolf in me wanted to recall. That winter, prey was scarce. Rogues pushed at our borders, and the Council demanded more from Father than he could give. When resources thinned, when space and safety grew tight, someone had to be sent away. I volunteered. The obedient daughter. The easy one to forget. The outpost clung to the cliffs beyond the pack’s borders—a place carved for old warriors and outcasts. No pack song reached that far. Only wind and silence. There I learned everything. They visited once a year for Solstice rites. Each time, they stayed less. Brought more gifts for Sera. Spoke less of me. When I finally returned, the Ashveil Pack had grown stronger—courts and galleries echoing with pride. My new quarters? A forgotten supply room near the rear exit. No windows. No warmth. Just a reminder: I wasn’t part of the vision they built. I packed my things into a worn duffel. The wedding leave I had once requested felt laughable now. I was reaching for the phone, ready to send a message to my superior at outpost—requesting return to the outpost. Tristan. My mate. Or at least, the one fate had paired me with. The one who should have stood by me. “What did you do to Sera?” he demanded, skipping any pretense of concern. “She’s in the healer’s hall. You poisoned her?” “It was an allergic reaction,” I said simply. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve always been jealous. How could you hurt your own blood like that?” His words were fire, burning through any remaining illusion I had. “Yes. I hurt her. I’ll apologize when she recovers. Are we done?” He fell silent for a second, stunned by my calm. We’d argued about Sera before—dozens of times. He used to flirt with her under the pretense of concern. Ordered her favorite foods during our dinners. Ignored my needs, my wants. “She’s your sister,” he always said, like that made everything acceptable. To my family, I was always the overreacting one. The unstable one. When Sera went to the Alpha training, I felt peace for the first time. Even Veyla had been calmer. Now, the storm had returned. “If anything happens to Sera again,” Tristan warned, his voice cold, “there will be no mating ceremony.” Then the line went dead. I pictured him rushing into the healer’s den, brushing hair from Sera’s face, playing the hero to the girl he truly wanted. My claws threatened to unsheathe. Instead, I smirked, hung up, and called my mentor back in the outpost . Later that night, the front door creaked open. Mother and Father returned, exhaustion painted across their faces. Rafe followed, his head low. My duffel sat by the door. I was ready to leave. From upstairs, I heard them speaking in hushed tones—until the silence cracked open with betrayal. “If only Tristan’s family had better standing,” Mother sighed. “He’s so good to Sera…” “Sera likes him,” Father added. “Had I known, I never would’ve paired him with Kiera.” “Still,” Mother continued, “Tristan and Kiera are more suited. Let Sera chase her dreams. He can still take care of her, even as Kiera’s mate.” The words sank like stones in my gut. Even now, they planned to keep Sera close to my mate. To my mate. I descended the stairs, my presence sudden, cutting off their whispers. Mother flinched as she saw me. “Kiera… you—You’re still here?” I said nothing. Just grabbed my bag and walked into the night—into the cold air and the arms of the moon. Veyla stirred again. We were never one of them, Kiera. But we are not alone. I tilted my face skyward, letting the night wind carry my scent far from that house. From the pack that never truly saw me. From the mate who never chose me. Let them keep their false bonds. I would forge my own.

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I arrived at the Moonfang Medical Station a bit early for my prenatal checkup.Alpha Vincent said he had patrol duty at the border and couldn’t come with me.I didn’t question it.He was an Alpha,and he had responsibilities. But just as I walked past the exam room hallway,I heard his voice. “Look here—this is the clawbone forming already.So sharp.” He was smiling.That warm,deep voice—he only used it when he was genuinely happy. “You’re sure that’s a claw?It looks kind of soft…”a soft voice replied. Omega Rosa. I took a slow step forward.The door wasn’t fully shut. Inside,Alpha Vincent was standing next to the glowing prenatal image panel.One of his arms was around Omega Rosa’s waist,his other hand pointing gently at the screen.She leaned into him like they were mated. “She’ll probably develop Alpha traits,”Alpha Vincent said with a small chuckle. “She?”Omega Rosa blinked up at him. “Just a guess.”His voice was so gentle it made my chest tighten. “Isabella Silver?”a nurse called from the hallway.“Your exam room is ready.” Alpha Vincent froze.He turned his head slowly,his eyes landing on me. I stood still. “Bella?”he whispered,shocked. “You said you had patrol duty,”I said softly. “I—Omega Rosa messaged me last night.She wasn’t feeling well.I was nearby.I thought I’d…check on her.” “Didn’t you say stress is bad for pregnant Omegas?”I asked.“Yet you came here instead of with me.” He didn’t respond. Omega Rosa stepped forward quickly.“It’s my fault,Isabella.I begged him.He wanted to go with you,I swear.” I forced a small smile.“You don’t have to apologize.I understand how it is for…us Omegas.” “Bella.”Alpha Vincent stepped closer and gently took my hand.“I didn’t forget your checkup.I just…handled it wrong.” “Did you forget who the father of my child is?”My voice trembled slightly. He didn’t answer immediately. “Is it yours?”I asked again. “I…I agreed to say it is,”he said quietly.“Just to protect her.” “Protect her?”I stared at him.“What about protecting me?Or our child?” “Her family would exile her.If they find out she’s carrying without a mate,she’ll be cast out.I couldn’t let that happen.” I pulled my hand away.“And so you just…claimed her child?” “It’s temporary.Once she gives birth,I’ll make everything right.” “You also said I was your one and only Luna.Does that mean anything anymore?” Alpha Vincent reached out again,pulling me into his arms. “Don’t be like this,”he whispered.“You’ll stress the baby.” His chest was still warm.Still familiar.But his scent…wasn’t the same. “She means nothing to me,”he added quickly.“I swear.I just couldn’t leave her like that.” I didn’t respond. “Let me stay with you for your checkup,”he said.“Please.” I nodded. — Alpha Vincent held my hand the entire time.He smiled at the healer,asked questions about the pup’s development,and even helped me down from the exam bed.Just like before.Like nothing had changed. On the way back to the den,he drove quietly.Then,out of nowhere,“Let’s have dinner together tonight.I asked the kitchen to make your favorite—braised shadow rabbit.” I gave a vague nod. But his communication stone lit up. Omega Rosa. He hesitated,then answered.“Omega Rosa?” “My chest’s tight.My heartbeat’s too fast…”she said,her voice trembling slightly. He looked at me. “Go,”I said. He frowned.“You sure?” “She needs you.” He reached over,gently kissed the back of my hand.“I’ll come back later.” I got out of the car.Walked toward the den. He stayed there,watching me. Just as I reached the door,I turned slightly. “Do you…think I’m in the way now?”I asked softly. He didn’t answer.

The broth was still warm when I lifted the lid.Alpha Vincent said he would join me for dinner later. He even told the kitchen exactly how I liked it—mild,with no heavy herbs.That was his way:attentive,careful.At least,he still tried to be. I sat quietly,waiting. A soft knock came. “Isabella.It’s me.” I opened the door.Alpha Vincent stood there,dressed in a fresh robe,his dark hair still damp.He had just washed up. “Am I late?”he asked,stepping in. “No,”I said.“The soup’s still hot.” He walked over to the table,glanced at the pot.“Did they add the right herbs?” I nodded.“Exactly what you asked for.” He sat down and ladled a bowl for me.“Here.Let me feed you.” “I can manage,”I said quietly. He insisted,lifting a spoon to my lips.“You deserve to be taken care of.” I took a sip.It was just right.But the scent that lingered on him wasn’t mine.I recognized it—Omega Rosa. “You were with her?”I asked. He stilled.“She wasn’t feeling well.I gave her a calming tonic.” “She must’ve been close.Her scent’s still on you.” He said nothing. “You’re still so gentle,”I said,forcing a small smile.“Makes it hard to be angry.” “Don’t say that.”He took my hand.“You’re the one I chose.You’re still my Luna.” “Does Omega Rosa know that?” His silence was answer enough. “I didn’t want to upset her,”he finally said.“Her pregnancy is unstable.Stress isn’t good for her or the pup.” “So you hide me to keep her calm,”I said softly.“And tell me to understand.” “I just want everything to be peaceful.Once her child is born,we’ll go back to how things were.” “But I’m still pregnant too,Vincent.”I looked at him.“I’m not a placeholder,waiting for my turn.” He looked conflicted.Then,suddenly,he stood up.“Let’s go out.I made a reservation at that old place we used to love.” “You don’t have to—” “She’s resting now,”he cut in.“Just us,for once.” I nodded. The restaurant was lit the same as always.As we stepped out of the car,a familiar voice called out. “Vincent!You really brought her?” Omega Rosa. She stood near the entrance,wrapped in a soft cloak,a smile playing on her lips. “I’ve been craving raw game meat all day.” I felt my stomach turn. Alpha Vincent looked surprised.“Omega Rosa?Why are you here?” “I saw your location stone light up.I figured…why not join?”She walked over,linking her arm through his like it was natural. I turned my face away. “Did you order the raw venison slices?”I asked. “Mhm.You used to like them too,didn’t you?” “I can’t stomach raw scents right now.” Alpha Vincent turned to me.“We can order something else.” “There’s barely anything here that isn’t raw.” “We could leave—” “She’s hungry,”I said flatly.“Let her eat.I’ll go back.” Alpha Vincent looked conflicted.“I’ll take you first,then come back.” Omega Rosa tugged his sleeve,voice trembling.“Vincent,my chest still feels tight.Don’t leave yet.” He hesitated.“Should I send a guard with you?” I nodded.“That’s fine.” I turned and walked away.He didn’t follow. I arrived at the den alone.I didn’t change out of my robes.I just sat near the window,watching the pale moon rise over the cliffs. I had thought I could endure it.But the truth was…it wasn’t just that he went to her.It was that he still acted the same with me.Still warm.Still sweet.Still able to look me in the eye and lie. The next morning,I was finishing breakfast when a servant came rushing in. “My lady—Omega Rosa has arrived with her things.She says she’s moving in.” I froze. “Who gave her permission?” “She said…Alpha Alpha Vincent did.” I walked to the main hall. There she was,directing the maids,moving boxes into what used to be my room.Our room. “Omega Rosa,”I said,voice steady.“You seem confused.” She turned to me,all innocent smiles.“Oh,didn’t Alpha Vincent tell you?I had a nightmare last night.The baby was crying.He thought I’d be safer here,near the healers.” “He told you to stay in my bed?” “He said your back’s been sore.The south-facing room is better for you now.” I said nothing. Later,a maid handed me a key. “Alpha Vincent prepared a quieter chamber for you,closer to the breeze.” I stood there,clutching the key,while Omega Rosa laughed in the other room. Vincent,you’re still so kind. So considerate. Just not to me anymore.

I sat on the edge of the bed in the breeze-room,hugging the old cloak Alpha Vincent gave me when we first mated.It still carried a faint trace of his scent—but now,it was mixed with someone else’s. A knock came at the door. “Alpha wants you in the main hall,”the servant said. I stood slowly.“Why?” “He said…something about reassigning quarters.” I followed him to the hall. Omega Rosa sat on the couch,wearing my old shawl like it was hers.Alpha Vincent stood behind her,calm as always. “You’re here,”he said gently.“Good.” “What’s going on?”I asked softly. “There was a visit from the elder council,”he said.“They claimed the living arrangements here violate the latest guidelines.They suggest separating all expecting Omegas to avoid stress and interference.” I looked at him,then at Omega Rosa. She smiled sweetly as she rubbed her belly.“I don’t mind,of course.I was just worried I might disturb Isabella’s rest.” “I’m fine,”I murmured.“As long as you’re comfortable.” Alpha Vincent nodded.“You’ll stay in the breeze-room for now.It’s well-ventilated and close to the herbal wing.” I hesitated.“What about my things in the main room?” “I’ve had them stored in the north wing.If you need anything,just tell a servant.” “I understand.” Omega Rosa stood up and took my hand.“Isabella,I’m really sorry.I hope you don’t think I’m trying to take your place.That’s not what this is.” I gave her a weak smile.“Of course not.” She leaned in and whispered,“Vincent’s just…too good sometimes.It’s hard not to depend on him.” I gently pulled my hand back.“You should sit.You need your strength.” She turned to Alpha Vincent and said sweetly,“See?She’s so kind.” Alpha Vincent looked at me.“If you need anything,I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.This is only temporary.” I nodded.“I know.” That night,I returned to the breeze-room. Everything was arranged perfectly.But it felt like I was walking into someone else’s space,not mine. Above,I could hear voices—soft laughter,a familiar chuckle. Omega Rosa was laughing.Alpha Vincent was responding. I sat near the window,holding my knees close to my chest.I didn’t sleep. A few days later,I ran into Omega Rosa in the corridor. She was basking in the sunlight,cheeks glowing. “You look well,”I said politely. “You too,”she said,scanning me up and down.“Though…you seem a bit thinner?Alpha Vincent said you haven’t been eating much.” “My appetite’s been weak.” “Well,you’re carrying an Alpha’s child.Can’t afford to go weak now.” There was something sharp in her tone,hidden behind a smile. “Thank you for the reminder,”I said quietly. She stepped closer and whispered,“About the bed—I didn’t want to take it.Alpha Vincent said you agreed.” I stiffened,but managed a smile.“As long as you rest well.” “You’re really generous,”she said.“If I were you,I’d have snapped by now.” I said nothing,only murmured,“I’ll be going.” That night,Alpha Vincent came. He brought a box of my favorite sweet fruit cakes. “I remember you always craved these after full moons,”he said,opening the lid. I took a bite.“Still good.” “You’ve been so quiet lately,”he said.“Is it because she’s here?” I shook my head.“No.I just haven’t been sleeping well.” “Did I make you uncomfortable?” “No,”I whispered.“You’ve done everything right.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.“I haven’t changed,Isabella.” I nodded. “When this is all over,”he said gently,“everything will go back to normal.” I looked at him,then asked,“Will our child…still have a name?” He froze. “You said once her child is born,you’d give ours recognition.You haven’t forgotten,right?” “I won’t let you be forgotten.” “Good.” The next morning,a servant told me Omega Rosa was holding a small gathering—a celebration for her stable pregnancy. I stood on the balcony and watched from above. She wore the ceremonial cloak I once wore. Alpha Vincent stood beside her,hand on her arm,smiling. They looked perfect. I turned away and shut the window. This house no longer felt like mine.

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