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They called Seraphina was the most shameless, most scandalous princess the lycan capital had ever seen — and one jug of spiked wine had finished off nineteen years of the Luna Temple’s priest’s sacred vows of purity. Rumors spread like wildfire: surely she would use the scandal to force a royal decree, demanding the priest leave his post and marry her. After all, she and the current Lycan King were twins. She was his most cherished person in the world. At ten years old, she’d marched into the royal court and yanked three white hairs clean from the Royal Tutor’s beard. At twelve, she’d snapped the General’s ceremonial sword in half before an entire assembly. At sixteen, she’d moved out of the palace and set herself up in her own estate — with ninety-nine lovers on retainer. The common folk dared only mutter behind closed doors about what a shameless creature she was, and they all wagered on when the King would finally issue the decree forcing the priest to marry her. But half a month passed. The palace and the Princess’s estate were both deathly silent. The Princess who had always been so brash and loud — she stopped making her daily pilgrimages up Frostpeak Mountain, stopped using “prayer” as a flimsy excuse to chase after the priest. She stopped throwing jealous tantrums every time the priest lit a candle blessing for one of her handmaidens. This time, Seraphina simply knelt in the palace, her spine straight as a blade. “Brother,” her voice was eerily calm, “grant me a decree to ride to the borderlands as a marriage alliance, mating with Ironrust Pack’s alpha.” … The Lycan King shot to his feet and reached for her hands himself. “The border may be restless, but I will never send my sister away as a peace bride! Besides, you’ve been in love with the priest since we were children! You took lovers the moment you left the palace — ruined your own reputation on purpose — just so no matchmaker could ever pair you with someone else.” The King tightened his grip on her hands. “And now — Caden has already petitioned me. He plans to release his sacred flame at the next full moon ceremony and leave the Temple. After the ceremony, he intends to take you as his mate. Sera, why are you—” Seraphina blinked, just once. He was going to leave the Temple? He wanted to marry her? But she straightened up quickly, lowered her lashes, and spoke in a voice rough as gravel: “Brother. I no longer wish to marry him.” “Why?” Because the person who had shared that shameful night with him was never her to begin with. The wine had been her birthday gift to him — she’d poured it herself with her own hands. But he’d taken only one sip before collapsing into unconsciousness. Panicked, she’d run down the mountain in a blizzard to fetch a healer. When she returned, she learned he had spent the night with Roselyn. Roselyn was her most trusted handmaiden. That was when she discovered the wine had been laced with a desire-inducing drug. Furious, she demanded answers — and all she got in return was his ice-cold stare. “Princess. Let this end here. If you dig further, the truth about Roselyn and me will come out — and with her low station, she’ll have no way to defend herself.” But the story leaked anyway. Only it twisted into something else entirely: that Seraphina had drugged the priest and forced him into a scandalous night. The ministers who had long despised her seized the chance to file petitions against her. She tried to clear her name — and he stopped her again. “Roselyn is innocent. She shouldn’t suffer for this. But you’re different. Your reputation is already notorious, and your rank protects you. People will forget soon enough.” He said it like it was obvious. Like she deserved everything raining down on her. But he knew, better than anyone, that every outrageous thing she’d ever done had been because she loved him. The entire capital cursed her name. Fanatical devotees of the Luna Temple knelt at the palace gates daily, demanding she die in penance. And she never said a single word in her own defense — because when she was ten years old, he had saved her life. Consider us even, she thought. From here, we owe each other nothing. The King stared at her for a long time. This was the sister who had always looked out for him since they were small. This was the fearless, reckless Seraphina who was afraid of nothing under the sky. But the person kneeling before him now looked like someone whose heart had already died. At last, he let out a long, heavy breath. “I… grant it.” Seraphina was about to rise when hurried footsteps echoed from outside the hall. The head chamberlain entered with a deep bow. “Your Majesty. A joint petition — signed by the entire court—” The King took the scroll and his expression darkened with fury. “They want the Princess to crawl on her knees up all nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine steps of Frostpeak Mountain — one kowtow per step — as a public apology to the priest? To appease public outrage?” Seraphina lowered her eyes. She wasn’t surprised. The ninth-generation priest of Frostpeak Mountain — Caden Vale — was the most extraordinary one the Temple had ever produced. Skin pale as first snow. Eyes sharp and cool. An air about him like a solitary peak above the clouds — utterly untouched by the world below. His divinations never failed. When he prayed for rain, rain came. He was revered by all — second only to the Lycan King himself, first in the hearts of the people. She had ruined him. The court wanted her to grovel. It made sense. “Absurd! Go tell them — she’s already agreed to the marriage alliance.” “Brother.” Seraphina stopped him, her expression unreadable. “If we announce the marriage alliance now, the Ironrust Pack will think my intentions aren’t sincere. It’s better to reveal it at the same time as the Keeper’s succession ceremony. It will prevent too much unrest.” She paused. “As for the steps — I’ll kneel them. To keep the peace.” … At the base of Frostpeak Mountain, nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine stone steps rose straight up into the clouds. The stairs were buried in thick snow. Ice hung from the pines on either side. The wind cut like a blade. Seraphina stood at the foot of the steps. She was about to lift her foot when voices drifted down from above. It was Caden and his head acolyte. “Why would the priest want to marry the Princess?” The acolyte couldn’t hide his confusion. “She wronged you. Your name is in ruins because of her. Why would you take her?” Seraphina’s foot froze mid-step. That was a fair question. Why had Caden petitioned to marry her? He could have stayed on the mountain even after leaving the Temple. He didn’t have to take anyone. Was it out of guilt? To compensate her? She needed to set him straight — she didn’t want his charity. But then that cool, snow-like voice answered: “Roselyn and I have understood each other since childhood. We were always… bound, by something. But our stations made it impossible.” Caden’s voice was detached. “If I marry the Princess, I can see Roselyn every single day.” Seraphina stood at the bottom of the steps. She heard every word. Her eyes burned, her nose stung — and yet, she laughed. Of course. He wanted to marry her for Roselyn. He said he and Roselyn had understood each other since they were young. That they were kindred spirits. Then what was she? When she was a child, she had fought to protect Caden time and again after he saved her. Her father’s fury eventually locked her inside the palace walls. So she had Roselyn carry letters to him — one after another, year after year — until the day her brother took the throne and she was finally free. She thought Roselyn was her messenger. She never imagined she’d been the one who had let those two fall in love. No wonder he protected Roselyn so fiercely. Seraphina tipped her head back and gazed up at those endless, endless steps. The corner of her mouth curved. Fine. After mated with Ironrust Pack’s alpha, they would never have anything to do with each other again.

She was just about to kneel when a commotion erupted behind her. Seraphina turned. Roselyn was leading a massive crowd of Temple devotees, marching toward her in a great tide. Roselyn stood at the front, head dipped, playing the picture of timid innocence. “I’m sorry, Your Highness — I couldn’t stop them.” Seraphina looked at the crowd behind Roselyn. They had clearly followed her footsteps here. She almost laughed at the irony. She used to treat Roselyn like a sister. Even that night — she’d gone running down a blizzard-covered mountain for a healer because she believed Roselyn when she said “the priest has been poisoned.” And the result? She later pieced together the truth: the drug in that wine had been placed there by Roselyn herself. The only reason she’d let Roselyn live was because Caden had begged for her life — and because they’d grown up together since they were girls. Her other handmaiden, Ivy, couldn’t hold back any longer. She stepped forward, her voice sharp: “Didn’t the priest personally request a favor, leaving you to recover at the estate? And you claim you couldn’t stop them? You led them here yourself, didn’t you?” Roselyn’s eyes went red, tears trembling at the edges. “Ivy, I really didn’t—” She never finished. A flash of white moved at the top of the steps. A figure descended. Caden — white robes, ink-dark hair pinned with jade, his expression sharp as carved stone — strode down the steps and walked directly to Roselyn’s side. Without a word, he unclasped his outer robe and draped it over her shoulders. “It’s freezing. Why did you come out?” His voice held a warmth Seraphina had never once heard him use with her. Roselyn’s eyes turned red, and she explained the whole situation — the petition, the crowd, the steps. Caden frowned faintly, then glanced over at Seraphina with something close to reproach. Something in Seraphina’s chest went still. Then it clenched, slow and hard. Roselyn could say anything and he would believe her. She had spoken her true heart to him for years and years. He had never believed a word. She didn’t bother opening her mouth. She simply turned back toward the steps, bent her knees, and knelt. One step, one bow. The crowd went silent for a breath — then the curses crashed over her like a wave. And then, somewhere in the mob, someone threw the first stone. It struck her across the back. More followed. Rocks. Clods of frozen earth. They rained down on her from all sides. Blood ran from her temple, mixing with meltwater, blurring her vision. She didn’t stop. Caden instinctively moved forward — but a sharp cry rose beside him. Roselyn swayed, her face draining to white, and crumpled against his chest. Caden caught her instantly, barking orders at the acolytes behind him: “Fetch a healer.” As he turned to carry Roselyn away, his eyes drifted back once more to that lone figure on the steps. A strange heaviness settled in his chest. Before, whenever she looked at him, her gaze had burned. Fierce and hungry, like she wanted to consume him whole. And she never called him by his proper title. Only ever: Caden. Or sometimes, when she was teasing, cute Caden But just now — from start to finish — she hadn’t looked at him once. The word that fell from her lips was his formal title: priest. From morning she knelt. Through dusk. Into dark. By the time the sun sank completely, Seraphina’s knees had long since worn through to raw flesh, blood gumming her skin to the stone. Her shoulders were bruised and torn from the stones that had struck her. Blood had soaked through her robes. When she crawled up the last step, her body pitched forward — and she collapsed in the snow before the gates of the Snowveil Sanctum.

When she woke, Seraphina was lying in a guest room inside the Snowveil Sanctum. Ivy sat at her bedside, spooning warm water into her mouth while tears streamed silently down her face. “Your Highness — the priest does care for you, in his own way. He had hot water drawn for you. He even gave specific instructions for you to stay and recover as long as you need.” Seraphina’s voice came out as a ragged scrape. “No. Pack everything. We’re going down.” Ivy blinked. “Now? Your wounds—” “I won’t die.” Seraphina braced herself upright. The marriage alliance mission was pressing. There was business at the estate to settle. She had no time to linger here. And she had no desire to lie here listening to what was happening next door. She had been gravely wounded last night — and through the thin wall, she had heard it all. Roselyn’s soft moans. Caden’s murmured reassurances. “Caden, it hurts — you were too rough last time…” “Don’t be afraid. I’ll apply the salve for you.” Even the memory made her stomach turn. She swung her legs off the bed, and the moment her knees touched the floor, searing agony shot through them. She clenched her jaw, gripped the bedpost, and forced herself upright. Just then, a soft knock. Roselyn’s voice through the door: “Your Highness. May I have a few words?” The small frozen lake behind the Sanctum had a skin of thin ice. The two women stood at its edge, saying nothing for a long moment. Finally, Roselyn broke the silence: “Your Highness. Caden told me last night — after he marries you, he’ll find an appropriate time to bring me into the household as well. I don’t ask to compete with you for anything. I only want to stay by his side. From that day on, I will honor you as the head of the household and serve you with all respect!” Seraphina finally turned to face her. Her gaze was level. Still. Without a trace of warmth. Roselyn faltered under that look. Seraphina stepped closer. Her voice was soft. “Everything you’ve done — I know it all. The only reason you’re still alive is because we grew up together.” She paused. “But from this day forward — don’t let me see your face.” She turned to leave. Roselyn’s color drained white. As Seraphina walked away, Roselyn gritted her teeth and lunged — grabbing her by the sleeve. “Your Highness! Please—” Seraphina’s brow furrowed. She shook Roselyn’s hand off — not hard, barely any force — but Roselyn suddenly pitched backward and tumbled into the lake. “Help! Someone help me!” She thrashed in the water, screaming. Acolytes and servants came running from every direction, and the whispers started immediately. “Was that the Princess? Did she push her?” “Of course she did — she’s always been jealous. She can’t stand Roselyn.” “The priest adores Roselyn — she did it on purpose…” And then a white figure burst through the crowd. Caden didn’t hesitate for even a heartbeat. He plunged into the lake. He carried Roselyn out of the water, wrapped the robe someone handed him around her soaking body — and then he looked up at Seraphina. That gaze. Cold as the ice that had never thawed at Frostpeak Mountain’s peak. It froze every word in her throat. Seraphina felt something in her chest get carved out slowly, like a knife working through bone. Caden turned and shoved past her — not violently, but not gently either — and strode off with Roselyn, shouting for a healer. Seraphina had been weakened. The nudge sent her stumbling backward. Her elbow cracked hard against the stone edge of the path. Caden’s step hitched. A complicated flicker crossed his eyes. But Roselyn whimpered from his arms, and he walked away without looking back. That night, Roselyn ran a high fever. And Caden — the revered priest, who had never once compromised his dignity — stripped down to only his inner robes and lay in the snow until his own body temperature dropped to ice. Then he went back to hold Roselyn close, using his own warmth to bring her fever down. All through the night. Into the next day. When Ivy reported this to Seraphina, she was shaking with fury. “Your Highness! After everything you’ve done for him — he won’t give you a single real look! He froze himself half to death in the snow for that girl, but you— And to think — when you were confined to the palace all those years ago, you split your mother’s gemstone brooch in half and gave one piece to him. And this is how he repays you!” “Ivy.” Seraphina’s voice cut through quietly. She coughed twice. “That’s enough.” The door burst open.

Caden entered like a storm, the cold fury around him almost visible. He crossed the room in three strides, seized Seraphina’s wrist, and hauled her off the bed — dragging her without a word toward the door. “What are you doing?!” Ivy lunged forward, but one look from him stopped her cold. Caden dragged Seraphina into Roselyn’s room. Roselyn lay in the bed. When she saw Seraphina, she struggled to rise, her voice thin: “Your Highness — this is my fault. I should never have said those things to you…” Caden shoved Seraphina forward. “Apologize to her.” Seraphina looked at him. “I did nothing wrong.” Caden’s jaw tightened. “You pushed her into the lake and you call that nothing wrong?” The grip on her wrist crushed tighter — nearly enough to grind bone. Seraphina laughed. It was a quiet, strange laugh. “Caden Vale. You may be second to none in this kingdom — but I am still the Princess. We have nothing to do with each other. You have no authority to command me.” Nothing to do with each other? Caden’s expression went flat and cold. “Don’t play innocent. I’ve already petitioned the King. I will take you as my mate after the ceremony. I’m to be your husband — is that authority enough?” He yanked her toward him — barely using force — but Seraphina was already so weak that she simply crumpled to her knees on the floor. Her knees hit the ground hard. The scabs that had barely formed split open again. Black swam at the edge of her vision. She didn’t cry out. She just stared down, watching blood bloom slowly outward from the wounds. He loved the world. He loved his devotees. He loved the people. He would spare tenderness for a bird, for an ant. The only person he had never loved — the only one he had always found so easy to hurt — was her. Roselyn grew frantic. “No — you can’t make Her Highness kneel before me, it’s my fault, I—” She dissolved into a violent coughing fit. Caden rushed to her side. “Stay still. Don’t strain yourself.” Roselyn sagged against him, catching her breath. Then her eyes drifted — and Caden followed her gaze to the small pouch hanging at Seraphina’s waist. He paused. Then he saw the blood spreading across the floor. In one swift motion, he reached down and unhooked the pouch from Seraphina’s belt. He pressed it into Roselyn’s hands. “Consider this her apology. Help the Princess up. Let that be the end of it.” Seraphina let out a quiet breath of a laugh. That pouch was the only thing Caden had ever given her. She’d carried it against her skin for three years. Well. Things she should never have kept in the first place. She pushed away the hands trying to help her, swayed to her feet on her own, and walked out. Caden watched her back until it disappeared. His brow furrowed deeper. She hadn’t said a word. He’d expected, at minimum, anger. Tears. He’d expected her to spin around and confront him, the way she always used to — eyes red, demanding to know why. She used to make jealous scenes over the most trivial things. Once, because he’d lit a single candle blessing for Roselyn during a ceremony, she’d sulked until he lit ninety-nine more. She had treated every small gift he’d ever given her like a treasure. He’d once offhandedly praised a line of poetry — she’d copied it out a hundred times and bound it into a little book. He’d absentmindedly snapped off a branch of winter plum — she’d put it in water and refused to throw it out for an entire month, even as the petals dried and fell. Now this… blankness. As if he no longer mattered to her at all. Something constricted in Caden’s chest, strange and sharp. But Roselyn stirred against him, and he pushed the feeling down. He was about to marry the Princess. If he didn’t correct her behavior now — while he still had some authority as the priest — he would have even less control once he was only an ordinary man. Roselyn would suffer for it. He could not afford to go soft.

Back in her room, Seraphina bound her wounds and went straight back to packing. This room had been hers on previous stays at the Sanctum — she’d put little touches of herself everywhere. Now she had Ivy take them all down, one by one. By the time dark fell, they finally rested. Ivy was crying again, her anger building with every word: “I was blind before — I used to think the priest treated you well. If you had actually married him, you would have been miserable every single day…” Seraphina finally spoke. “I won’t be marrying him.” The door crashed open again. Caden stood in the doorway, his expression like a sky about to break. “What did you just say?” Ivy startled, stepping in front of Seraphina. Caden ignored her, eyes fixed on Seraphina alone. “What did you just say? Are you refusing to allow Roselyn into the household?” “I promised you — outside of her, no one else would enter. You and Roselyn grew up in the same world. Why must you be so intolerant of her?” Seraphina said nothing. Caden drew a sharp breath. “What do you want?” “Nothing. If you have something to say, say it.” She finally looked up. “I’m leaving at first light.” Caden glanced at the wounds on her knees. Then at her bloodless face. Something uncomfortable churned through him — a restless, sourceless irritation. “No one is throwing you out. Why do you have to act pitiful? Are you trying to make me feel guilty?” Ivy had heard enough. Her voice shook with barely restrained indignation: “priest, that’s going too far. Our Princess has never once played the victim. And besides, there are plenty of people at the estate waiting on her. We’d rather not be in the way of your… arrangements.” Caden’s expression tightened further. He thought of the ninety-nine lovers at the Princess’s estate. A cold sound escaped him. “No wonder you’re in such a hurry. Missing your lovers already. Then leave — right now. At least with you gone, Roselyn won’t have to be afraid all the time.” Seraphina’s hands stilled. He wanted her to leave. Right now. In the dead of night. In the snow. She looked up and met those cold, empty eyes. He wasn’t joking. “One more thing,” Caden’s voice dropped further. “We’ll be wed in a fortnight. I expect every one of those lovers gone before then.” Seraphina closed her eyes. She thought of the letters she’d sent him over the years — every one of them her truest heart. She had told him, in those letters, that she had never touched those men. She kept them only to turn away matchmakers. She was waiting for him, and only him. He had never believed a single word. And now he was using it to wound her again. “Since that’s why you came, I’ll leave.” Ivy’s voice cracked. “Your Highness — it’s the middle of the night. Your wounds—” “Let’s go.” Seraphina braced herself upright, and walked out the door. Ivy followed, crying. Caden stayed where he was and watched her silhouette vanish into the wind and dark. The heaviness in his chest grew heavier. Something pressed down on him, made it hard to breathe. The priest — who was always so composed, so untouched, who prided himself on feeling neither pleasure nor sorrow — found that his temper always seemed to ignite so easily around Seraphina. He drew a slow breath, and noticed for the first time what she’d done to the room. The landscape painting she’d hung on the wall — gone. The small pot of winter plum she’d been tending on the windowsill — gone. She had said once, with a laugh, that a room needed these things to feel like a home. And now it was bare. Stripped clean. Like she had never been here at all. Caden’s fist closed slowly at his side. Something pierced him, sudden and deep. He thought, perhaps, that he was coming down with something. He ought to have a healer look at him.

The mountain trail was treacherous. Snow had buried the path ankle-deep. Seraphina took each step slowly, like she was pressing her feet down onto knife blades. Every time her knees bent, pain ripped through her body in waves so violent her whole frame shuddered. Ivy gripped her arm, weeping silently with every step. They were halfway down the mountain when a howl split the dark. Then — eyes. Twin points of pale green glowing in the black, then more, and more. Witches? How could there be witches here? Before Serafina could even think, Ivy was already trembling—but she still stood in front of Serafina. “Your Highness, run! I’ll hold them off!” Seraphina tried to grab her, but it was too late. The witches’ fiery arrows were already raining down on them, capable of instantly stripping werewolves of all their strength. “Ah—!” Ivy screamed, blood splattering onto the snow. Seraphina drew a dagger from her waist, unleashing the unique aura of a lycan, and moved into a giant white wolf, charging towards the witches. But the witches outnumbered her, unleashing their magic from a distance. By the time she had finally driven them all away, Ivy had collapsed beside her, the ground beneath her feet stained dark red, her face almost as red as the snow. “Your Highness… run… don’t worry about me…” Seraphina’s carefully held composure cracked. This was the girl who had grown up beside her. Her last remaining sister. “Ivy.” Seraphina’s voice shook. “Ivy, stay with me — keep your eyes open—” She didn’t let herself panic. She clenched her teeth, hoisted Ivy onto her back, and started climbing. Up. Back toward the Sanctum. She didn’t know how long she walked. She only knew that every step burned her to the bone, and she didn’t stop, because she couldn’t afford to. Finally, the gates of the Snowveil Sanctum appeared through the dark. She stumbled forward and pounded her fist against the wood. The gate swung open — and before she could speak, acolytes surged toward her shouting: “The Princess has been found!” “The moonstone choker from Roselyn’s coat has been poisoned — she’s barely holding on!” “Every healer is inside! Bring the Princess at once!” “That wasn’t me — please, help Ivy first—” Her voice came out like shredded silk. She was barely conscious herself, one arm pointing toward Ivy’s crumpled form on the ground behind her. But no one heard her. They all stared at her like she was a monster who had just crawled up from the earth. More acolytes pushed forward: “Roselyn’s been poisoned — the healers say only the blood drawn from above the heart of the one who poisoned her can serve as the antidote!” Seraphina was dragged into a room and shoved to the floor. Caden stood beside the bed, holding Roselyn’s limp body in his arms. He didn’t even look at her. Just spoke in a voice scraped clean of everything: “Take the blood. Save her.” “That’s not—” Seraphina couldn’t finish the sentence. The knife came down before she could say another word. “Ahh—!” A short, broken cry tore from her as the blade plunged into her chest. Blood welled and dripped, one drop at a time, into the bowl below. Her awareness narrowed to a tunnel. She held on as long as she could — and then a gush of blood rose in her throat and spilled from her lips. She fell. In the darkness, she thought she heard someone calling her name. But she couldn’t hear it anymore. She hadn’t saved Ivy yet. She was so sorry. She was so sorry…

When she woke, Seraphina was looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling. A blade of pain lived in her chest. An unknown handmaiden knelt at her bedside. “You’re awake, Your Highness. This is the priest’s new estate — it was prepared for the ceremony, to receive you as his mate.” Seraphina didn’t take any of that in. “Where is Ivy?” The handmaiden went very still, kneeling, and began to tremble. Seraphina understood then. She threw back the covers and lurched to her feet. The wound stitched across her chest tore open. She felt nothing. She was already running, bare feet on cold stone, crashing through the door. Outside, a heavy snowfall. And several servants moving slowly, carrying a coffin out toward the gates. Seraphina stopped. Then she lunged forward, wild. “Ivy! Ivy!!” A pair of arms wrapped around her from behind and locked tight. Caden’s brow was drawn together, his voice sharp and urgent. “Stop — are you out of your mind? Your chest wound just closed!” Seraphina wrenched free and turned. The way she looked at him made him go still. “SMACK!” Her palm cracked across his face. Every person in the courtyard froze. Every knee hit the ground. Caden’s head turned with the blow. A vivid handprint rose on his cheek. “You—” “I hate you.” Seraphina’s voice shook, but every word was carved sharp. “Caden Vale. I hate you. I will kill you. I will kill that girl too. They owe Ivy her life!” The words landed in Caden’s chest like a fist. He recovered, and his voice came out low and harder than he meant it to: “Enough. You have any idea what you’re saying? You were the one who struck first — you poisoned the choker. Ivy’s wounds were from the witches. What does any of that have to do with Roselyn?” Seraphina laughed. A thin, broken sound. “That brooch was taken from me by you. How was I supposed to poison it in advance? How could I have known you would give it away?” Caden went rigid. He opened his mouth. No sound came. He thought back. Roselyn had been coughing blood. The healer said the brooch was poisoned — that only the poisoner’s own blood could serve as the antidote. He had panicked. He’d only wanted to save her. But now… What Seraphina was saying also made sense. “It’s all my fault — every bit of it!” A figure hurled itself out from inside. Roselyn fell to her knees between them, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t fight because of me! I will pay with my life!” And before anyone could react, she snatched the dagger from Seraphina’s belt and raised it toward her own throat. “Roselyn!” Caden lunged and tore the blade from her hands, pulling her into his arms. Seraphina’s voice came out flat as stone. “You really should die.” She grabbed the dagger and drove it toward Roselyn— “Enough!” Caden shoved Seraphina back. She hit the snow. The wound tore fully open. Pain crumpled her where she lay. “You try to stab her right in front of me? And you still want to deny the poisoning?” Caden stared down at her, and his eyes held something she hadn’t seen before: not anger, but deep, quiet disappointment. “Seraphina. You are petty, jealous, and consumed by obsession.” He looked at her once more. Then he turned away. “Take the Princess to her room. Keep her there until she’s recovered.” She was dragged inside regardless of how she cursed and screamed. At midnight, the fight drained out of her completely. She slumped against the headboard. And then she heard it. A faint rustling. Her whole body locked. Snakes. Her most primal, bone-deep terror. She hadn’t even screamed before one shot toward her from the dark — and sank its fangs into her flesh. The only person who knew about her fear of snakes was Caden. Three years ago, she had visited him at the mountain, and found a snake in the guest room. He had caught it and carried it out himself. That same night, he had given her the pouch — his voice cool but careful: “Princess, don’t be afraid. This will keep snakes away.” And now he had sent snakes to punish her. Darkness. More rustling. They came from everywhere at once — writhing over her legs, striking, striking again. She convulsed, seized on the floor, unable to crawl, her throat too injured to scream. Footsteps outside the door. Then Caden’s voice: “Don’t blame me for this.”

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“Mom, Dad. She’s the transfer student who spread those lies about me. The one who gave me anxiety so bad I had to see a therapist.” “So please don’t ask me to call her my sister.” I walked through the front door of the Montgomery estate to find Victoria already sobbing in my parents’ arms. The girl who had been living my life for the past year. I was the real daughter. The one they had finally tracked down after eighteen years. Mom had her arms wrapped tight around Victoria, whispering that everything was okay. Dad stood with his jaw locked, staring at me like I’d already ruined everything. “I can’t believe we raised you with every advantage in the world, and this is what you do with it.” “Henderson. Escort her out. No daughter of mine bullies someone in their own home.” I stood there stunned, my hands already moving. Fingers flying like I was casting a spell. Me? Spread rumors? I’m mute. …… I hadn’t even made it past the entryway. The cold from outside still clung to my fingertips. Victoria was buried in Mom’s neck, shoulders heaving. When she finally looked up, her eyes were red and swollen. “You don’t know what she did.” Her voice dropped. “After midterms, when I ranked second in our grade, she went around telling everyone I cheated. That Dad paid off the teachers. That I slept with the guidance counselor to get into the honors program.” With every word, Mom’s hand on Victoria’s back pressed harder. Dad’s frown deepened. I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. Just a thin rush of air. It had always been that way. Congenital vocal cord damage. I had used ASL and written notes my whole life. I raised my hands. Fingers just starting to shape the sign for no when Xavier pushed up from the couch. My brother. Three long strides and he was in my face, looking down at me. “Ella. How long are you going to keep this up? You’ve pushed Victoria to the point of a breakdown. And you’re going to stand there and play innocent?” I froze. Hands hanging in the air. Xavier had been glued to Victoria’s side since I arrived. He looked at her like she hung the moon. He looked at me like I was the reason it fell. “Xavier, don’t.” Victoria tugged his sleeve, her voice honeyed. “Maybe she just wanted attention. She doesn’t know how to fit in yet. I don’t blame her. Really.” “You are too good for her.” Mom pulled Victoria closer and turned on me, eyes cold as January. “We brought you home to give you a real family, Ella. Not so you could make this girl’s life hell. Whatever you learned out there, leave it at the door.” Dad’s knuckles hit the coffee table. Low. Final. “A daughter of Robert Ashworth does not behave this way. I don’t care where you’ve been. You have embarrassed this family. Henderson, get her out of my house.” The housekeeper and the staff clustered near the hallway, whispering. “Apparently she was running wild before they found her.” “Sweet Victoria would never. I don’t know how anyone could go after her like that.” “Look at her doing that hand thing. Probably faking it for sympathy.” Each word landed like a pin in my eardrum. I reached for my backpack. I always kept a notepad in the side pocket. I could write out everything that had actually happened. My hand barely touched the zipper when Xavier’s fingers snapped around my wrist. “What are you trying to pull out?” I yanked free and dug in with my other hand. Got the notepad. Started to open it. Xavier snatched it. Two clean rips. Paper rained down over my shoes. I stared at the scraps on the floor. The last warmth I had for this house went cold. Victoria let out a soft sob and buried herself deeper in Mom’s shoulder. “Xavier, please,” she breathed. “She’s just trying to…” “She pushed you to the edge and you’re still defending her.” He was practically shaking. “Someone like that doesn’t belong under this roof.” Dad gave Henderson one nod. “Get her out.”

I slept in the school dorms that night, curled on a narrow mattress. By 7 AM, my homeroom teacher was calling me into her office. Victoria was already there when I pushed the door open. Crumpled tissue in her hand. Eyes swollen to slits. She shrank back the moment she saw me. That perfect, practiced flinch. “Ella.” Ms. Hartley’s voice was flat. “Tell me what you did to Victoria yesterday.” Victoria sucked in a trembling breath. “Ma’am, please don’t. Yesterday she cornered me in the hallway. She called me a cuckoo in someone else’s nest. Said she’d make sure I couldn’t stay at this school.” Ms. Hartley picked up her phone. “I’ve already called your parents. They’re on their way.” The office door opened minutes later. Dad walked in iron-faced. Mom came in right behind him, already reaching for Victoria’s hand. “Is she at it again?” Dad’s voice was a grinding wheel. Ms. Hartley folded her hands. “Based on Victoria’s account, Ella has repeatedly targeted her with verbal abuse and threats, including threatening to get her expelled. This school has a zero-tolerance policy for bullying.” Dad turned on me. The disappointment in his eyes had weight. “Are you trying to destroy everything? Is that your goal?” I opened my mouth. Air. No sound. My hands came up, fingers starting to sign *no*, when his palm cracked across my face. The slap rang through the room. My head snapped sideways. My ear rang for three full seconds. I turned back slowly. Tears were already falling. “You want to cry? After what you did?” His voice dripped contempt. “You’re performing. Always performing. Trying to make everyone feel sorry for you.” Victoria tucked herself against Mom’s side and made a small, wounded sound. Mom looked at me like something spoiled. “Born rotten. Can’t stop going after my girl.” The office door had drifted open. A few classmates pressed into the gap, necks craning. “So she actually did all that.” “Seemed so shy and harmless. Funny how that works.” “No wonder her foster families kept sending her back.” I breathed in. Counted. Raised my hands again and signed: I didn’t do it. Ms. Hartley cut me off. “Ella. I need you to stop doing that. If you have something to say, say it out loud. Don’t perform for the room.” My hands dropped. So even my silence was a performance. Then, from the doorway, small and unsteady: “She’s not performing. That’s ASL.” Everyone turned. A girl stood at the threshold, fingers twisted in her jacket hem, chin barely up. “My little brother is Deaf. I grew up with sign language. She just signed I didn’t do it. And I think…” She swallowed. “I think she might be mute.”

The room froze. The girl in the doorway didn’t back down. Her cheeks were red but her voice stayed level. “I’m not guessing. ASL signs are standardized. What she signed was I didn’t do it. And she hasn’t spoken once since she started here. Everyone’s noticed.” Ms. Hartley’s skepticism cracked just slightly. “You’re certain?” “I’d stake it on it.” Silence pressed down over the office. Mom’s face shifted. Something small and reluctant moved behind her eyes. Something close to guilt. Then Victoria straightened. “Oh, Ella.” Her sigh was heartbroken. “Even if you don’t want to admit it, you didn’t have to rope someone else into covering for you. Pretending to be mute is not…” And just like that, whatever guilt had flickered in Mom’s expression vanished. Dad pivoted to me, white-hot. “You coached her. You planned this whole thing. You’re beyond help.” I reached into my jacket pocket. Unfolded the paper I always kept there. My medical documentation. Congenital vocal cord dysplasia. Official letterhead. My name in the diagnosis field. Dad ripped it out of my hand before I could show anyone. He didn’t read it. Tore it in half. Then quarters. Let the pieces fall. “Keep faking. I’ll have you sent somewhere they don’t reward it.” Mom’s voice dropped to something uglier. “We thought you were just damaged. Turns out you’re manipulative. I’m done.” Victoria’s face, half-hidden in Mom’s shoulder. The corner of her mouth curved up. So small. So fast. Gone before anyone could catch it. Ms. Hartley looked at the torn papers on the floor. She looked at me. Looked at the parents. Sighed. She waved toward the girl in the doorway. “Go back to class. We’ll handle it from here.” The girl looked at me. Eyes full of something helpless and sorry. Then she turned and walked away. I crouched down and started picking up the pieces of my documentation. The edges were sharp. My fingertip started bleeding. I barely felt it.

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The moment the ring slid onto my ring finger, darkness exploded. Not light. Darkness. Thick, living, burrowing into skin, bone, soul. I crumpled to the ground. Dorian rose and looked down at me. “It’s done, my dear.” Behind him, Rosaline stepped forward. My best friend. The person I had told every secret. She walked over my hair and past me, laughing. “Poor Arwen — and you actually believed it.” It wasn’t a ring. It was a forbidden soul-swap ritual. The wedding went ahead as planned. Rosaline wore my wedding gown, took Dorian’s arm, and smiled at my father the King. They had stolen my body. My identity as the mermaid princess. My birthright. My family’s love. My brother Leon noticed something was wrong. That night he died on the stone floor of the throne hall, face purple, pupils blown wide. I screamed. No sound came. I was nothing but a wandering wraith. Invisible to everyone. Inaudible to everyone. The King and Queen fell ill and died, one after the other. When the Queen died, she was holding Rosaline’s hand — that hand wearing my ring, wrapped in my skin. “Mother… I will take good care of the kingdom.” She called her Mother. That was my mother. The coronation. Dorian and Rosaline sat side by side on my father’s throne. Dorian turned his face toward her. “I love you, Arwen.” Rosaline nestled against him. “I love you too, Dorian.” No. I am Arwen. I am Arwen. I threw myself at the throne. My fingers passed through their bodies — nothing to grab. Tears of blood poured from my eyes: the first sign of a soul’s collapse. I was growing more transparent by the moment. I was about to disappear. To disappear forever. No one would ever remember me. The villains sat on the throne, draped in my flesh, living a stolen life. At the edge of extinction — I opened my eyes. My bed. The bed in the palace, the year I turned eighteen. Sunlight filtered down through the sea, through the crystal window, and fell across my face. The door opened. Dorian walked in, took my hand, and cradled in his palm that deep-blue ring. “This ring is the symbol of our eternal love.” He smiled. The most perfect fiancé in the world. I stared at the ring. The ring that had taken everything from me. The ring that had killed my brother. The ring that had brought my parents to their deaths. The ring that had erased me from the world. My hand was trembling. But this time — I would not put it on. This time, I would make them burn in hell.

“Do you like it? Go ahead and try it on.” “It’s a gift from you. I’d like to wait and wear it tomorrow, at the wedding.” “All right. As long as you’re happy.” His tone was as gentle as ever. Yet I caught the flash of impatience that crossed his eyes — there and gone in an instant. How had I never seen it before? Dorian lowered his head and pressed his lips to the back of my hand. “I will love you forever.” “As will I.” Nothing but lies. Anyone can say them. After returning to the palace. I stared at the ring in my hand, buried my face in my hands, and wept without a sound. My ladies-in-waiting were frightened out of their wits. “Your Highness! Has someone wronged you?” They crowded around me, flustered, pressing handkerchiefs into my hands and gently patting my back. “It’s nothing. Only a very terrible dream.” In my past life, the ladies-in-waiting had noticed something was wrong with Rosaline. To silence them, Rosaline had every one of them put to death. I can still hear their desperate cries as they were dragged away. But in this life. I will not let anyone die again. “I need all of you to find someone for me. As quickly as possible.” My ladies-in-waiting brought back the person I was looking for — a young mermaid child named Lily. She was skeletal with hunger, large patches of scales had fallen away, her tail fin was covered in scars, and branded onto her shoulder was a black number: 387. “Who could be so cruel?” “She’s not even of age!” I crouched down and met her eyes at her level. “Who did this to you?” “Thank you for saving me, but I cannot say. The mermaids who spoke have all disappeared.” “It was Dorian, wasn’t it? He kidnapped and imprisoned you. To make the dark magic rings.”

“How did you know?” “Dorian kidnapped many common mermaids and used us for experiments. Drawing blood. Stripping scales.” “He said that if it worked, he could create a true soul-swapping ring.” “I was number 387. All the others died.” The black number branded on Lily’s shoulder looked like a wound that could never heal. Every one of my ladies-in-waiting had gone pale with horror. “He’s mad… is he mad?” “Do you want revenge?” Lily nodded hard. Tears rolled from her eyes and fell into my open palm, where they became two perfect, round pearls. Her gaze suddenly fixed on my hand. Lily: “That ring — whatever you do, don’t put it on!” Lily: “It’s a dark magic ring. It will kill you.” “I know.” I knew all of it. The person Dorian truly loved was Rosaline, his childhood sweetheart. But Rosaline had been frail since birth, and his family would not permit him to marry her. So he sought out a dark sorcerer and used forbidden arts to craft two soul-swapping rings — one for me, one for Rosaline — intending to place Rosaline’s soul into my body. To that end, he had kidnapped countless underage common mermaids. He had tormented them. Drew their blood. Stripped their scales. Extracted the essence of their lives to forge the rings. Lily was the 387th. And the only one to survive. “The moment I put on the ring, the dark magic nearly killed me. But I lived.” “My parents loved me. My brother loved me. Their love protected my heart.” “And so, as a transparent soul, I witnessed everything — and then I came back.” Lily: “I am close to death. My only wish is revenge. Can you truly help me?” “Yes. I swear it.” Lily: “Then… would you give me that ring?”

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On Halloween’ Day, Callum slid a divorce agreement across the table to me. “Your two ex-husbands called to pick a fight with me yesterday,” he said. “They told me you’re too uptight. That you can’t take a Halloween’ joke. That you’d never have the guts to sign a divorce agreement.” I’d been married twice before. Before Callum and I got together, I’d explained it to him directly: “The first time I got married, it was to help my childhood friend Sebastian secure his inheritance rights.” “The second time was to help Dominic, someone I’d trust with my life, get out of an arranged marriage.” “Both times, I walked away clean. No love lost, no grudges held. If that’s something you can’t live with, then we—” He’d grabbed my hand, eyes red, and cut me off. “I believe you. All of it. We don’t need to talk about the past anymore. But from now on — I’m the only one who gets a place in your eyes.” After we registered our marriage, he and my two ex-husbands were at each other’s throats constantly — yet with me, he was always gentle and attentive. I thought I’d finally married the right man. Then came the day I returned early from a business trip. I heard him in the living room, talking easily with Sebastian and Dominic — three men who supposedly despised each other: “Divorce is old news to her. She’s done it twice already.” “Hand her the agreement right on Halloween’ Day!” “Afterwards, just come back and tell her it was a joke. Easy.” “Vivienne’s wedding is next week. We made that promise back in senior year — her bachelorette night, all of us had to be single.” I stood outside the door and heard every word. So when Callum came to me with the divorce agreement, I simply took the pen and signed without a word. By the time Callum came looking for me again, I was six months pregnant. “You were right,” I told him. “I’m too uptight.” “So I took your Halloween’ joke at face value.” … I’d sat in the café across from our building for a full hour. Only after they’d all left did I go back home. When I walked in, Callum put down his phone and came to take my bags. “Why didn’t you let me know you were coming back? I would have picked you up.” He took my suitcase with one hand, and the other naturally settled around my waist. Warm. Attentive. Exactly the same as always. “Have you eaten?” “Yes.” He nodded, then seemed to remember something. “Actually, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” I set down my things and turned to look at him. He sighed and pushed the document across to me. “The company’s hit a snag. The lawyers recommended we do a formal asset separation. That means going through divorce proceedings — just on paper.” I looked down. A divorce agreement. He’d had it ready and waiting. “Once things blow over, we’ll remarry.” He held my hand, his voice sincere. “A few months at most.” I was quiet for a moment. “I know this is sudden,” he said, squeezing my palm, lowering his voice with a trace of indignation. “But Sebastian and Dominic called earlier. They were making digs at me — saying you used to do anything for them without question, but apparently I don’t get the same treatment.” “They also said a woman who’s been divorced twice wouldn’t dare go through a third one. That you couldn’t handle it.” “I’ve already figured it out — tomorrow is Halloween’ Day. We’ll go then. Then we wave the certificate in their faces, scare them half to death, show them they’ll never look down on you again.” “It’s Halloween’, after all. Anything can be written off as a joke. Once the company situation settles down, we’ll re-register properly. No one will say a word.” He looked at me, something between wounded pride and quiet hope in his eyes. “You’re not going to let them look down on me, are you?” I looked at those eyes for a long time. Those eyes that looked so sincere, so devoted — eyes that had just been clinking glasses with those two men, saying “she won’t make a scene.” “Of course not.” I gave him what he wanted. He visibly exhaled — then quickly masked it with a look of pleasant surprise. “Get some rest. Tomorrow’s the end of the month — after we sign, we’ll go—” I took the pen, turned to the last page, and signed. “Call them,” I said, setting down the pen with a smile. “Tell them to stop talking.” Callum blinked. He clearly hadn’t expected me to be so easy about it. He smiled, tucked away the agreement, leaned over and kissed me. “Best wife in the world.” I let him. My heart was as still as standing water. He took the agreement to the study to make his call. His voice was low, but with only a door between us, I still heard it. “She signed.” Sebastian’s voice came through faintly from the other end: “Told you. Jo’s so easy to handle.” “Good. Keep Vivienne happy on your end. I’ll wrap up here and be over soon.” I sat in the room for a long time. My phone buzzed. A message from Dominic: [Haven’t seen you in ages. Want to get together?] I stared at it for a long time. Once, I would have replied “sure.” Would have thought carefully about what to wear, how to do my makeup. Would have thought about how to protect Callum’s dignity in front of them, to show them my marriage was a good one. To make sure they wouldn’t pick fights with him. After all — one side was the friend I’d grown up with my whole life, the other was the husband I loved. Both were people who mattered deeply to me. I’d never wanted them to be enemies for the rest of their lives. But now, I couldn’t even be bothered to reply. I flipped my phone face-down on the coffee table and went to the balcony to take in the laundry. As I passed the study, Callum was still on the phone. His voice was low, but carrying a kind of ease I had never heard from him before. The ease of a man who no longer had to perform. No longer had to pretend. I suddenly realized — in all the time we’d been together, he’d never spoken like that with me. The wind on the balcony was strong. I took the clothes down from the rack one by one, folded them, placed them in the basket. When I took down the last piece, my phone lit up again. This time it was Sebastian: [Heard you’re getting a divorce again?] [Callum’s a piece of work. He never deserved you. Don’t be sad.] [Grandpa Quinn’s eightieth birthday banquet is in a few days. Dominic and I will be there to celebrate — let’s catch up properly!] I let out a quiet laugh. How touching. As if he hadn’t been the one in the living room helping to plot the whole thing. I pressed the power button and dropped my phone into my pocket. I suddenly wanted to know what kind of person Vivienne was. That she was worth all three of them going to such lengths to keep a promise. That she was worth all three of them treating me — so casually — as a means to an end. But then I thought again. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter anymore. I picked up the laundry basket and turned back toward the house. I didn’t pause as I passed the study. Warm amber light spilled through the crack in the door. This light. This home. This man. Starting tomorrow, none of it had anything to do with me.

I’d barely set the laundry basket down when the doorbell rang. I went to answer it, but Callum got there first. The person standing outside had a flush across her face — she’d clearly had a lot to drink. She saw Callum and smiled. “I knew you’d still be up.” Callum instinctively glanced back at me, then dropped his voice. “What are you doing here?” She didn’t answer. She swayed her way inside. Not until she spotted me standing in the living room did she stop, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. “Oh — you’re home too, Jo.” Sebastian caught her from behind and shot me an apologetic look. “Jo, she’s had too much. We were walking her home and she insisted on stopping by here.” Dominic stood in the doorway, his expression a little stiff. He glanced at me once, then his gaze moved to Callum, his voice turning sharp: “Callum, your wife is standing right there. Don’t you have any sense of decency?” Callum stiffened, then frowned. “You get her this drunk and dump her at my door, and I’m the one who needs to watch my behavior?” “I got her drunk? You’re the one who posted that you were ‘back on the market’ on your social media!” Dominic gave a cold laugh and stepped aside. “Fine — you’re above it all. She’s here. She’s your problem.” The two of them stood on opposite sides of the entryway. The air between them had frozen solid. Sebastian was caught in the middle, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Alright, alright, let’s not fight — Vivienne just wanted to drop by on the way—” I stood in the center of the living room and watched the whole performance from start to finish. They were far too coordinated for enemies. If I hadn’t heard the sound of their glasses clinking with my own ears, I might have believed their supposed hatred for each other. For so long, I’d thought what I had with Sebastian and Dominic was the kind of bond nothing could crack. At my most loyal, I’d even married both of them. My parents had died young. Grandpa was busy. It was the two of them who had filled every corner of my childhood and teenage years. Every hard moment — Sebastian was always there. Dominic once stepped between me and a trafficker’s knife. To me, they were closer than family. But when had our iron triangle become this? Probably when we started senior year. When Vivienne appeared. A new circle formed outside mine. Slowly, I became the leftover piece — only thought of when someone needed a favor. I pulled my gaze away from them. Some cracks didn’t start today. I’d just chosen, today, to finally see them. “You’ve all come at just the right time,” I said. “There’s something I’d like you to witness in person.”

I walked to the coffee table and picked up the divorce agreement. “Two copies — I’ve already signed both. Since everyone’s here, let’s make it official.” Callum’s expression shifted slightly, but he recovered quickly. I was the one bringing up the divorce, in front of Sebastian and Dominic. In his mind, I was proving how far I’d go for him. A trace of smugness crossed his eyes. “Jo,” he said, stepping toward me, his tone soothing. “We can handle this privately, no need to—” “Since the agreement’s already out,” Vivienne said suddenly, “can I ask — when are you moving out?” The living room went quiet for a beat. Callum frowned. Vivienne ignored him, looking only at me, her expression perfectly innocent: “This apartment is in my name. You can’t exactly stay here forever, can you?” I went still. The apartment. In her name. I looked instinctively at Callum. He avoided my gaze, his throat moving once. He said nothing. In that moment, image after image crashed through my mind. The day we moved in, him holding my hand, saying “this is our home.” When he bought the place, saying “I’ll handle all the paperwork, don’t worry about it.” Me, happily choosing curtains and sofas and the dining table… Every piece of furniture in this apartment — I’d made trip after trip to the home goods store to pick it out. Every corner of this place, decorated to his taste… I’d never cared whose name was on the deed. But I had never imagined that the home I shared with my husband would be registered under another woman’s name. I looked down at the agreement in my hands. I let out a quiet breath of laughter. “I’ll go now.” “Jo…” Callum stepped forward. “Civil registry office. Nine o’clock tomorrow morning.” I didn’t look back. I grabbed my suitcase, walked to the door, changed my shoes, pulled it open — one clean motion. The hallway lights blinked on and off. Waiting for the elevator, I could still hear the sounds drifting through the door: “She’s even more cooperative than when I had to beg her to marry me!” Laughter mixed with chatter, muffled behind the door like something from a stranger’s life. I stood at the elevator, listening to this story I no longer recognized. The person in the mirror looked calmer than I expected. It wasn’t until I was in the cab that my phone buzzed. A message from Callum: [About the apartment — I’ll explain…] [Be good. Find somewhere to stay for now. I’ll come get you in a few days.] I stared at the screen for a few seconds, then turned it face-down on my lap. Outside the window, streetlamps retreated one by one. Come get me in a few days. As if I’d just stepped out to buy groceries and would be back in a moment. I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes. Don’t bother, Callum. You don’t need to come.

The next morning at nine. Civil registry office. When I arrived, Callum was already waiting outside. He was leaning against the car door. When he saw me get out of the cab, he stubbed out his cigarette and walked over. “Where did you go last night?” “Grandpa’s.” He nodded. His eyes rested on my face for a moment. He reached out to touch my hair — I turned my head away. His hand stopped mid-air, held there for one second, then fell back to his side. “Jo,” he said, lowering his voice with a measured kind of certainty. “I know you saved face for me in front of Sebastian and Dominic last night. I appreciate that.” “As for the apartment…” He paused. “Vivienne needed to establish residency in the city, and she needed a property registered in her name. I figured it was just a technicality. You’ve never been the type to worry about those things — that’s why I didn’t mention it.” I looked at him and said nothing. I’m not the type to worry about those things? He gave our marital home to another woman. And dismissed it with “you have money, you wouldn’t care”? He didn’t think I wouldn’t care. He simply didn’t care whether I cared. “In any case — you still have the right to live there!” “After the divorce, stay somewhere else for a while,” he continued, already arranging things. “Once I’ve sorted everything out on my end, I’ll bring you back.” I almost laughed. Even now, he thought this was all still part of the performance. That I was playing along. “Let’s go,” I said, not taking his words. I turned and walked toward the building. “Time to process the paperwork.” He followed, his steps quick. The procedure was faster than I expected. Signatures. Fingerprints. Photographs. The officer brought down the stamp with a clean, final sound. The divorce certificate sat in my hands — a thin little booklet, not much different from the marriage certificate. Just a different color. Callum glanced down at his phone, a small frown crossing his face. “I need to take a call,” he said. “Wait here — I’ll walk you back after.” He stepped a short distance away and answered. His voice was low, but two words still drifted across: “Vivienne…” I stood where I was and watched his back. He hung up and came back quickly, looking hurried. “Something’s come up. Head back on your own — I’ll reach out later.” After he walked out the main doors, I turned slowly and headed toward the other end of the hall — the window for marriage registration. … By the time Callum walked out of the civil registry office, the sun had already climbed high in the sky. He looked at the divorce certificate in his hand, then checked his phone — Oct 31st. Halloween’ Day. Right. Today. The tension he’d been carrying loosened just a little. His phone rang — a client call. They talked for almost ten minutes. When he hung up, he glanced back at the registry office entrance. Why wasn’t Jo out yet? He hesitated, then turned to walk back. He wanted to say a few more words to her — at least lock in a timeline for remarrying, so she wouldn’t spiral into overthinking. He hadn’t taken two steps before he walked straight into a man pushing through the doors. The other man dropped everything he was holding. Callum’s divorce certificate slipped from his hand too. “Sorry.” He spoke first, bending down to collect them. Two certificates lay side by side on the ground — his divorce certificate, and the other man’s marriage certificate. A gust of wind caught the cover of the marriage certificate, flipping it open halfway, exposing the corner of a photograph. Callum’s hand went still. “It’s fine.” The other man picked up the marriage certificate before he could, his voice even. Callum looked up. The man was wearing a dark gray overcoat. Tall, composed, expression perfectly neutral. “Congratulations,” Callum said, a casual pleasantry. “Getting married today.” The man glanced at the divorce certificate in Callum’s hand. His tone was equally even: “Congratulations to you as well.” Callum blinked, not quite catching the meaning. The man had already tucked the marriage certificate into his inner pocket. His gaze passed over Callum’s face without lingering, and he turned and walked away. Callum stared after him, the thought growing heavier in his mind — today was Halloween’ Day. Who gets married on Halloween’ Day? And this man’s voice, this man’s build — he was certain he’d seen him somewhere before. “Wait—!”

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Cain gripped my waist, his red eyes churning with panic: “Isolde, I lost control during a heat cycle. I’ll have her get rid of the pup immediately.” I was the fated mate of Cain Blake, Alpha of the Nightshade Pack — the recognized Luna of the entire wolf clan. Until the day of pup Kaden’s first birthday celebration, when Ella appeared at the oak gates of the territory, her belly swollen. Every werewolf’s gaze fell on me. I had become the laughingstock of the entire Nightshade Pack. “Alright. I believe you.” But five years later, I went to the healing center for a routine check-up. From the private room next door, Ella’s voice drifted through the wall: “Cain, this is all your fault. If I hadn’t given birth to Bailey for you, why would I be going through all this.” “I don’t want the pack’s resources. I want you to get rid of Isolde and officially mark me as Luna.” My hand froze on the door handle. When I came to my senses, I submitted a mate bond dissolution request directly through the wolf clan’s municipal hall communication system. There was no need for Cain to abandon me. I was the one letting him go first. …… The moment the submission was confirmed, a mind-link came through on Cain’s private channel. His voice was casual, the background filled with the noise of pack affairs. “Isolde, the pack is marking out new territory today. I won’t be back to the main house tonight.” I raised my hand and touched my face. For him, I had endured my wolf spirit’s rejection and injected the pack’s specially formulated anti-aging serum. All because of one thing he had once said: “Isolde, after female werewolves pass thirty, their skin loses its warmth. I prefer the feel of an eighteen-year-old female.” I was never the type to bother with even earrings, yet again and again I had bent myself to please him. And behind my back, he had fathered a pup with Ella. “Alright.” I replied through the mind-link. My tone was so calm it felt foreign even to myself. Cain’s consciousness paused. He probably hadn’t expected me to be so cold. He seemed about to say something more, but I cut the link. Then I sent him a recording of what Ella had said at the healing center through the pack’s communication system, and added one line: “See you at the municipal hall.” Less than half an hour later, Cain’s SUV crunched over the fallen leaves of the territory and came charging back to the main house. Kaden’s small figure came bounding over, wolf ears drooping, his voice soft and childlike: “Mama!” I stared at Cain, all the words I wanted to say stuck in my throat. He grinned like a scoundrel, scooping Kaden up in his arms, his wolf tail sweeping gently across the pup’s back: “Kaden, how about we all go hunting in the Full Moon Forest tonight?” “Yes, yes!” Kaden cheered, waving his little wolf claws. I could see it clearly. He was using Kaden to threaten me. Five years ago, when Kaden found out we were dissolving the mate bond, his wolf spirit went into violent revolt. His small body convulsed on the ground, yet he clung desperately to the hem of my clothes: “Mama, please don’t break the bond with Papa. Please.” My heart felt cut to pieces. In the end, I gave in for the sake of the pup. This was his usual move. But just as we were about to head out, Ella appeared. She stood on the stone path in front of the main house, eyes rimmed red, leading by the hand a pup about the same age as Kaden — Bailey. She knelt directly in front of me, wolf tail curled to her side, humbling herself to the ground. “Sister, please, give Cain back to me. Today is Bailey’s birthday. He needs his Alpha’s presence.” Bailey burst into wails, kicking at the ground with his short little legs: “I want Papa! I want my Alpha Papa!” Kaden, who was holding my hand, went suddenly rigid. His wolf ears flattened. His face went white as paper. I turned to look at Cain. A flash of struggle crossed his red eyes. I had just reached out to grab his wrist when he turned and walked to Ella’s side. “We’ll go hunting another day,” he said to me, his voice laced with apology. Something inside my mind snapped. After that scene five years ago, Kaden could no longer hold his head up among the other pups in the pack. There were always pups pointing at his back and jeering: “A wild pup with no father.” “The pathetic cub of a Luna who can’t keep her Alpha.” Kaden had once broken down and climbed the pack’s watchtower, nearly jumping off. It was I who knelt at the base of the tower, soothing him with my wolf spirit’s aura, that talked him back down. Afterward, Cain sent the most precious wolf-fang ornaments and snow-fox furs. But what use were all the pack’s resources to me? The entire Nightshade Pack knew those things were earned by Kaden and me at the cost of a layer of our skin. “Cain, if you dare walk away, Kaden and I will truly cut all ties with you.” My wolf spirit let out a low growl in my chest, my red eyes locked onto him. Cain’s heart tightened. The next second, Ella grabbed Bailey and bolted toward the road outside the territory: “What’s the point of living if we’re treated like this! We might as well get hit by a car and die on the road!” Cain’s eyes went wide with fury. He shoved me aside and sprinted after Ella into the traffic. I fell onto the stone steps of the path, my forehead striking the flagstone. Blood trickled down my cheek. Kaden cried out. He threw his small body over mine to shield me, tore off his little jacket to press against my wound, then ran after Cain and grabbed the hem of his trousers with his little wolf claws: “Papa! Mama is hurt! Take her to the healing center!” Cain’s face was full of impatience, his attention entirely on sheltering Ella in his arms. Then Bailey suddenly let out a shriek. Ella thrust Bailey’s reddened wrist at Kaden and screamed: “Why did you pinch him! He’s just a pup! What are you two trying to do! If you want to hit someone, come after me!” She raised her hand and slapped herself hard across the cheek. A werewolf’s self-healing made the redness flare and fade quickly, leaving only a disheveled appearance. Cain lost all reason in his protectiveness, and raised his hand to strike Kaden across the face. “You’re just like your mother! Spoiled to have no regard for anyone!” He immediately contacted the Iron Blood Training Camp through the pack’s communication system: “I have an out-of-control pup here. Come pick him up immediately.” Kaden crumpled to the ground, one cheek swollen red, wolf ears flat against his head, staring blankly at Cain. He only murmured: “I didn’t pinch him. I didn’t…” I pushed myself up and stepped in front of Kaden. “What gives you the right to hit him! What gives you the right to accuse him of something he didn’t do!” Cain’s eyes held only Ella and Bailey. He wouldn’t give Kaden or me even a single glance. A black van pulled up alongside the stone path. Several werewolves in training camp uniforms jumped out and moved to drag Kaden away without a word. The Iron Blood Training Camp — the pack’s notoriously brutal pup disciplinary facility. The trainers there routinely beat and punished the pups. Just last year, one pup had been beaten so severely that his wolf spirit was weakened, leaving him permanently unable to shift.

My Kaden was a pureblooded pup of the Nightshade Pack. What right did anyone have to make him suffer like this? My eyes went red. I threw myself in front of Kaden, snarling like a wolf that had lost all control: “Get away! I will die before I let you take him!” Seeing the wound on my forehead still bleeding, Cain’s eyes flickered briefly with something soft. Ella immediately burst into tears, speaking in a persuasive tone: “Sister, you’re harming Kaden like this. If he’s made mistakes and you won’t correct them, and you stop others from helping discipline him — even if his wolf spirit awakens, he’ll only grow more extreme.” Cain set aside his hesitation. He yanked me aside and let those tall werewolves roughly drag Kaden into the van. “Mama! Mama, save me!” Kaden’s cries tore through my wolf spirit. I chased after the van and slipped on the moss of the stone path, falling to the ground in a heap. Passersby who didn’t understand the situation, seeing Cain sheltering Ella and her pup, assumed I was a low-ranking female clinging to the Alpha. They pulled out their communicators to record my collapse. The pack’s public channel was flooded with mockery. “This female has no shame — acting like a mistress and daring to make a scene.” “Clinging to the Alpha like a rogue wolf. The guards should throw her into the punishment cell.” Not far away, Ella leaned into Cain’s arms, as docile as a tame little wolf. But her eyes were filled with thick contempt. She mouthed two words at me — “Useless.” A trace of reluctance crossed Cain’s face and he moved to help me up. Ella immediately collapsed against him, clutching her head: “Cain, my wolf spirit is in so much pain.” Cain withdrew his gaze and carried Ella horizontally in his arms, walking to the car. As the car passed me, Ella rolled down the window and flashed the smile of a victor. But by now, I no longer cared about any of this. I rushed back to the main house, packed bags for Kaden and myself, and used private resources to hire three high-ranking wolf warriors as escorts. Everything was prepared. I only had to wait for dawn to go and break Kaden out of the training camp. At midnight, Cain — whom I’d thought would never come back — pushed open the door of the main house. He was thoroughly drunk, his wolf spirit’s aura in disarray. The moment he saw me, he grabbed my jaw. “Isolde, what’s with that look on your face.” “Ella and Bailey — I’ll keep them in the secondary residence. They won’t threaten your position as Luna. Why won’t you just give a little ground?” Give ground? Five years ago I gave ground. And what happened? He and Ella had a pup together. My Kaden suffered every indignity. Ella’s social platform was filled with photos of their family of three celebrating a birthday in the Full Moon Forest. And now Kaden was still trapped in the cold Iron Blood Training Camp. Cain’s palm smoothed across my cheek, infatuation in his red eyes. “Isolde, let’s have another pup — a girl this time. Once we have both a son and a daughter, you won’t want to leave me anymore.” He pinned me on the sofa, his hand sliding up my thigh, his wolf spirit’s aura wrapping around me with possessiveness. I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. The sound rang out sharp and piercing in the quiet main house. Cain froze. “Have you lost your mind!” I pushed him off, pulled out the mate bond dissolution agreement I’d already prepared, and flung it in front of him. “Sign it.” Cain’s expression turned ominous. The alcohol had dulled his reason. This was the first time he hadn’t backed down in front of me. He picked up the pen and pointed at the signature line: “Are you sure?” “Yes.” I enunciated each word. Cain’s eyes went bloodshot, the veins in his neck standing out. He signed his name cleanly. “Isolde, I’ll be waiting for you to come crawling back.” I paid him no attention. I picked up the signed agreement and my bags, pushed open the door, and walked out of the main house I had lived in for seven years.

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During the request segment, I gripped the ring box in my pocket. Eight years together. Tonight, I’m proposing to Lucian Vance. The spotlight stopped on me. Sadie screamed in my earpiece. “Go!” I took the mic and looked at Lucian, face burning. He glanced at me, raised his hand, and took the mic. He turned and handed it to his assistant Chloe Reed on his other side. “The light hit her first. It’s Chloe’s first live show. Let her have it.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Gentle as always. Chloe took the mic, eyes wide, and picked a love song. Lucian clapped first. Sadie’s voice changed in my earpiece. “Chloe Reed again?” I almost laughed. Lucian had no idea. This wasn’t just a mic. This was the last chance I was giving us. In one week, the Sterlings would announce my goodbye. …… The singer froze for a few seconds, cleared his throat, and started warming up the crowd again. Sadie had lost it in my earpiece. “What is wrong with him? New Year’s fireworks, he brought Chloe. Your birthday dinner, he brought Chloe. Now the concert too? Is he dating you or babysitting the intern?” Sadie stopped herself. “Sera, that came out wrong.” I managed a laugh. She wasn’t wrong. Lucian brought his little assistant everywhere. He said it was for work. Sadie lowered her voice. “Everyone’s at the restaurant. Balloons are set, banner’s up. Just waiting for you two. Then he pulls this. I could kill him.” She paused. “Should we still wait?” I forced a smile. “Don’t.” What was there to wait for? The mic wasn’t even in my hands. I took out the earpiece and shoved it in my pocket. My fingers touched the ring box. The corner dug into my skin. One carat. I’d spent weeks on the setting. I’d waited until Lucian was asleep, wrapped a string around his ring finger, and took it to the jeweler. For tonight, I’d called the organizers two months early and filmed a three-minute video. Eight years together. Our friends filmed their blessings one by one. The last frame was me looking into the camera, saying the words. I filmed it seventeen times before I got a take where my smile didn’t shake. Chloe’s song ended. The crowd went wild with cheers and whistles. Everyone probably thought she and Lucian were the couple. Lucian glanced at me. Like he just noticed I wasn’t clapping. “What’s wrong?” I said nothing. The show ended and the crowd pushed toward the exits. He walked beside me, arm around my shoulder, keeping me from the crowd. “Sulking? Over a song request? Seriously.” He was on his phone, not looking up. “I’ll book you a whole show later. Pick whatever you want.” Sometime. Next time. Later. His three favorite words. “Lucian.” I stopped walking. He didn’t. Took two more steps before turning back. “We had a deal. Eight years, you’d give me an answer. It’s been eight years.” He put his phone away, looked at me, and smiled. That “here we go again” smile. “What’s the rush? I’ve got five deals going before year-end. Once things settle after New Year’s, I’ll take care of the wedding.” After New Year’s. Pushed back one more notch. He’d said the same thing three years ago. The first time I took him home. Flights were booked. The day before, his secretary said there was an urgent pitch deck. He canceled his ticket. He’d said the same thing then. “What’s the rush? I’ll meet them eventually.” I flew alone with two sets of gifts. My dad asked where he was. I smiled and said work came up. The car pulled into the garage and stopped. He leaned over and rubbed my earlobe with his thumb, barely touching. “I’ll get you that bracelet you liked, as an apology. Deal?” I turned my head away from his hand. He froze. “Lucian, stop.” “I don’t need it anymore.”

Lucian raised an eyebrow and tapped the steering wheel. “Oh great, you’re mad again. Go home, sleep it off. You’ll feel better tomorrow.” He glanced at his phone and muttered. “Chloe left something at the venue. I’ll go back and find it.” I nodded. “Okay.” Got out. Closed the door. He watched me from the driver’s seat for two seconds. Something felt off. Then the taillights flashed and the car pulled away. I went upstairs alone. His jacket hung over the back of the couch. The collar still smelled like cedar. The balcony door was half open. Words were carved into the railing. He’d scratched them with a key the day we moved in. Crooked letters. A strip of paint scraped off. “Seraphina Sterling, one day I’m going to marry you.” He’d just closed his first round of funding. On top of the world. He picked me up and spun me around twice in the empty living room. “Once I’ve made it, I’ll give you the wedding of a lifetime.” I believed him. I waited eight years. Year one, he said the company was just starting. Give it time. Year three, he said they were expanding. He couldn’t leave. Year five, he said it was almost done. Next year for sure. Year eight. I stood on the balcony, tracing the carved words with my finger. Where the paint had chipped, rust had crept in. The ring box pressed hard against my hip. I took it out. Opened it. The diamond caught a bit of light from the living room and flashed. If he wasn’t going to ask, I would. Three months of working up the nerve. Calling the organizers, filming the video, buying the ring, getting Sadie and the others to set up the restaurant. And I barely touched the mic. The lock clicked. I put the ring away. Lucian walked in and tossed his keys on the console table. He saw me looking at the balcony railing and raised an eyebrow. “What’s so interesting? Come to bed.” I didn’t move. “Did you find it for her?” “Yeah.” He walked past me and started taking off his watch. “Lucian.” I stopped him. “It’s over.” His hands stopped for a beat. Then he scoffed. “Over a song request? Really?” “She’s never been to a live show. What’s wrong with letting her have a turn?” “I can’t have another woman around besides you?” He sounded tired. “Enough. I said I’d book you a show. Go to sleep. I have investors tomorrow.” He kept walking toward the bedroom. I looked at him walking away. “The Sterlings are hosting a dinner next week. They’ll make an announcement.” “After that, we’re done.”

Lucian stopped. He turned, leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Seraphina, let me be clear.” His tone went cold. “Getting your family to pressure me into a proposal won’t work.” “You’re that desperate to get married?” “What do you mean ‘done’? Is that a threat? Or are you playing hard to get?” I didn’t answer. He had no idea this dinner had nothing to do with him. The Sterlings were going to announce that I was giving up my position as heir. That I was joining a classified federal research program. Eight years. After that, I would disappear. No public appearances. No trace. The dinner was the Sterlings’ way of closing the book. Telling everyone: Seraphina Sterling is gone. Don’t look for her. Don’t ask. But he took it for granted I’d always be there. His voice went low. Worse than shouting. “What did your idiot friends put you up to? It has to be this year? Right now? Do you know how busy I am?” Busy. He was busy. Busy on forty-minute “work calls” with Chloe at midnight. Busy memorizing Chloe’s coffee order but forgetting my allergies. Busy throwing Chloe a birthday party with a balloon wall. Calling her “the team’s little ray of sunshine.” His time, his attention, his care. All spoken for. Just not for me. “I’m in crunch mode. Three rounds of investors before year-end. Every step matters.” He pressed his fingers between his eyes. “What are you trying to pull?” “Calm down and think about what you’re doing.” He turned to leave. “Lucian.” He stopped. “You’re right. I am playing hard to get.” I looked at his back. “So. Will you marry me?”

Lucian didn’t turn around. A few seconds of silence. “Get some rest.” He walked into the study and closed the door. Something sour spread through my chest. I knew the answer. I asked anyway. Maybe eight years isn’t something you just let go of. But this was the last time. Late that night, I sat on the edge of the bed and opened the nightstand drawer. A stack of pages lay inside. The corners had yellowed and curled. Two years ago I’d saved wedding photos off the internet and printed them. Venues, flowers, invitation fonts, vow templates. I brought them to him, beaming. He was on the phone. He mouthed “later” and waved me away. Two years. That “later” never came. My phone buzzed. Sadie was still angry. “Restaurant’s cleared out. Sera, the more I think about the concert, the madder I get. Three months of planning and he just…” “Sade, it’s fine. I’m leaving anyway.” The other end went quiet for a long time. “You’re sure? Eight years together, eight years gone. When you come back, nothing will be the same.” “Yes.” “You won’t even tell him?” “Sade, there’s nothing left to say.” Sadie didn’t speak. After a while, her voice came back thick. “I’ll keep the banner. Just in case…” “Sade.” “Yeah.” “Throw it out.”

Day four of the cold war. Lucian left early, came home late, went straight to the study. When we ran into each other in the living room, he looked at his phone and I looked at the TV. Nobody said a word. Like two strangers sharing an apartment. Sadie saw I was down and dragged me out to eat. “Stop sitting around. I got us a private room. Cry if you want, yell if you want.” We sat down. Laughter came from the next room. I knew that laugh. Sadie’s face changed. “Maybe we should go…” I shook my head. Chloe’s soft voice came through the wall. “Lucian, I still feel bad about the concert. The mic was meant for Seraphina. I should have known better. Maybe I should apologize to her?” “Nothing to do with you.” Lucian’s voice was flat. “I gave it to you. You took it. That’s it.” One sentence in front of a whole table. She was off the hook. But whenever I went to his office, he kept his distance. Said people talk. One of his friends kept going. “But Luce, I heard Seraphina had something planned that night?” A beat of silence. “I knew she was going to propose. Someone told me a month ago.” Same lazy voice. Sadie’s head snapped toward me. My nails dug into my palms. “You knew and you still gave the mic to Chloe?” The friend couldn’t believe it. “What was I supposed to do? The harder she pushes in public, the less I give.” “When she throws a fit, I play along. But marriage? She needs to learn that making a scene won’t work.” The friend sighed. “Still, eight years. Wanting to make it official isn’t crazy.” Lucian went quiet. “Of course I’ll marry her. But not because she made me.” “When I do it, that’s my call.” Another friend lowered his voice. “Honestly, Seraphina loves a scene. Always making it a big deal.” “Right. Chloe’s so easy. No drama. When has she ever given you trouble?” Chloe’s voice came through, sweet and pouty. “Don’t say that about Seraphina. She probably just loves Lucian too much. After all these years… she’s not getting any younger.” That last part. “After all these years.” Just the right amount of pity. Lucian said nothing. A round of knowing laughter. Sadie’s hand reached across and grabbed mine. Her fingers were shaking. I patted her hand, picked up my bag, and stood. “Sade, let’s go.” I pushed our door open and walked past theirs. Glasses clinking inside. Chloe’s sweet laugh. It was raining. The streetlights stretched a long wet line into the dark. I kept walking. I didn’t look back.

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I am mated to the Beta triplets of my pack. Every night, I endure the desire of three men. Everyone in the pack knows I’ve been spoiled rotten by them. The best food, the best clothes, and I snap at them whenever I want. Because I am loved and cherished, I act without restraint. Until a healer named Iris arrives in the pack. Her previous pack was destroyed, and she comes to Silver Moon Pack with a pup. Unlike my spoiled and temperamental nature, she is gentle and radiant, and many male wolves are drawn to her. But she never depends on any of them. She raises her pup alone and lives her life with ease and strength. Slowly, my first mate Aiden begins to grow tired of how spoiled I am. When he leaves, the other two mates are furious for me. “Aiden, you were the one who chose to leave! Don’t you ever think of coming back to Selene!” But not long after, my second mate Damon leaves as well. I look at the only one left, Liam, and my nose stings. “Liam… do you think I have a bad temper too?” Liam pats my head. “Don’t overthink it. They’re the ones who are trash. They don’t know how to cherish you.” Until I see it with my own eyes. He shifts into wolf form and follows behind Iris, step by step, so humbly, so desperately, as if begging her to pet him. I turn and run. Stumbling all the way, I rush into my Alpha father’s house. “Father, let me go to the Northern Pack marriage alliance.” — “Selene, are you insane?!” My father snaps back to reality, eyes wide. “That’s the Northern Pack! Other she-wolves pray not to be chosen, and you want to send yourself there?!” My eyes are red as I clutch my clothes tightly. The Northern Pack lies at the far north of the werewolf world, a place of extreme cold, ruled by ice wolves. They are cursed by the Moon Goddess. Their she-wolves are born without wolf nature and cannot form mate bonds. To continue their bloodline, they must form marriage alliances with other packs every year. The Northern wolves are not only powerful, but also fiercely loyal to their mates. Yet no she-wolf willingly goes to that frozen wasteland. “Did they… do something again?!” my father’s voice turns cold. He stands up immediately, but I stop him. “Don’t go! Father, please don’t!” I rush forward to hold him down, shaking my head desperately. “Don’t stand up for me anymore…” When Aiden and Damon left, I had already cried and begged my father. Because of that, Iris nearly got expelled from the pack. She later moved farther and farther away, but they still never came back to me. Their cold eyes are still so clear in my mind that I tremble thinking about them. “Selene, stop using your privilege to bully people. Iris did nothing wrong, yet she almost got driven out because of you.” “Without your Alpha father, what are you worth?” “I can’t believe I ever liked a disgusting she-wolf like you.” That night, I held onto the only one left, Liam, and cried until I blacked out. But now, even he doesn’t want me anymore. In silence, my father lets out a heavy sigh. “Selene, you’re my only daughter. I don’t want you going somewhere that far.” “But I also can’t bear to see you suffer. Three days from now, there will be a draw. Think it over and come back to tell me, alright?” I leave my father’s room. At a glance, I see Liam waiting outside. He leans against the pillar, holding a small yellow flower, staring at it absentmindedly. I recognize that flower. He got it from Iris today, wagging his tail like a fool. When he sees me, he hides the flower and smiles softly. “Selene?” I wipe my eyes and walk straight past him without looking back. “Selene, where are you going?” I don’t answer. After a few more steps, I suddenly realize there is no sound behind me. I turn back abruptly. Liam has stopped at a distance far away from me. His brows are slightly furrowed as he carefully protects the small yellow flower in his hand, afraid it will be bent by the wind. Something in my chest tightens. I shout at him angrily, almost losing control. “Liam! Why aren’t you following me?!” My voice gets louder and louder. The surrounding wolves start to look over. But he only lifts his eyes slightly, his shadow stretched long under the setting sun. An unfamiliar panic rises in my chest. I stomp my foot and, gritting my teeth, start walking toward him. But the next second, I hear him say. “Selene, I won’t be able to walk you home anymore.” He turns and walks toward Iris’s house.

The house is left with only me. The fire in the fireplace is still burning, crackling softly Liam lit it early this morning. I reach out to add more wood, but a spark jumps out and burns my hand. My lips curl down in instinctive grievance. Only then do I realize no one is here to care about me anymore. My nails dig into my palm. I suddenly stand up and run outside. I stumble all the way, falling again and again, getting back up again and again. Until finally, I end up standing in front of that door, knocking in a mess. But the one who opens the door is not Liam. Aiden freezes when he sees me. His gaze falls on my injuries, his expression unreadable. “What are you doing here?” He is my first mate. When he was by my side, he always disliked how I ran around, afraid I would get hurt. He would frown and scold me for being reckless, but still silently follow behind me to clean up my mess. His words were never gentle when he lectured me. And yet I remember it too after every cold shoulder, he would quietly come to my bed. Wipe away the tears I stubbornly refused to show with his fingertips. Then, in the sound of my pretending-to-sleep breathing, he would leave clumsy, burning kisses. I lower my eyes and don’t look at him. Instead, I anxiously search inside. Aiden, ignored, unconsciously tightens his grip on the doorframe. He lets out a cold laugh and calls into the house. “Liam! Did you not even clean up your tail properly and now she’s come chasing you? What are you going to do if Iris finds out?” The wind of early winter slaps against my skin. I’m only wearing a thin dress, my face pale as I watch Liam walk out. His clothes are messy, his hair disheveled. On the side of his neck is a fresh bite mark. He glances impatiently at Aiden, then finally looks at me. A flicker of irritation crosses his eyes. Coldness spreads through my body. I take a step back instinctively. Then suddenly, a cloak is placed over my shoulders. I look up, only to see Aiden’s tight jawline. Liam walks up to me, still wearing that familiar gentle expression. For a moment, I almost think I saw wrong. “Selene? How did you end up like this?” I bite my lip. “Liam, I… I won’t throw tantrums anymore asking for berries from miles away. I won’t complain about the fur being too rough. I won’t bother you when you’re tired anymore…” “From now on, I only want you. I don’t want anyone else. Don’t leave me alone, okay?” My words come faster and faster, completely unaware of Aiden’s changing expression beside me. Liam listens, but his gaze keeps drifting to my bloodied knees. I unconsciously slip back into the spoiled habits I used to have with him. I even reach out to grab his hand. “You promised you would always stay with me! Liam, you can’t break your word! I—” But I grab nothing but air. Liam pulls his hand away. “It’s cold outside. Come in first, alright?”

The room is warm. I sit on a wooden chair lined with soft animal fur. Everything around me is neatly arranged. The wooden walls have been carefully sanded smooth, and the corners are stacked with enough firewood to last deep into winter. I think of my own room, cold at this very moment. After Aiden and Damon left, Liam did keep it maintained—but he is always distracted. The leak in the roof never seems properly fixed. Firewood is always only chopped when it is almost gone. When it gets too cold, I no longer dare to complain so openly like before. I only secretly press myself into Liam’s arms, afraid he might leave me too. Then suddenly, I hear low voices from the inner room. “What, are you softening up?” “Let me tell you, if you regret this, don’t even think about coming back here!” I freeze. Quickly, I turn slightly to listen. But then I hear Liam’s cold voice. “No. I’m just worried she’ll go crying to the Alpha again, or cause trouble for Iris.” “Don’t worry. She’s easy to pacify.” My mind goes completely blank. Aiden lets out a short laugh. Footsteps fade away. Someone crouches in front of me. Liam lowers his eyes and uses a cloth to slowly wipe the blood and dirt from my knees. His tone is still as gentle as I remember. “Selene, from now on… I will be Iris’s mate.” “You are the Alpha’s daughter. You can choose any outstanding male wolf you want in the pack.” Something flashes through his eyes, and he even smiles slightly. “Didn’t you say before… that you wanted to kick all three of us out and go find other she-wolves?” That was just words said in anger, wasn’t it? Why did it not matter before but now it suddenly becomes real? Tears blur my vision as I look at him, shaking my head again and again. “No…” Liam stares at the tears at the corner of my eyes, his expression darkening slightly. He reaches out slowly, wipes them away, and pats my head like he used to. Then, in silence, he stands up to get water and medicine. Suddenly Bang. Something heavy is thrown at me. I turn around and see Iris’s pup standing there, glaring at me with hatred. He lifts a hot water kettle high. “Bad woman! You bullied my mom! Get out!” I instinctively raise my arm to block it. But the movement makes the splashing water bounce back. A few drops of boiling water land on the pup’s exposed leg and hand. He freezes for a second. Then bursts into piercing, heartbreaking cries. At that moment, the wooden door is pushed open from outside. A blast of cold wind rushes in. A hand grips my throat. Damon’s green wolf-like eyes lock onto me, and he lets out a cold, furious laugh. “So you couldn’t bully Iris enough, and now you’re bullying her pup too?” “Selene… you really never disappoint.”

Damon’s departure was the most humiliating. Because of my complaints, Iris nearly got expelled from the pack. To protect her and her pup, Damon silently accepted a border patrol mission that was basically a death sentence. He traded his near-death experience just to keep Iris and the child in Silver Moon Pack. The last time he cut the mate bond with me, the way he looked at me was ice cold. “I was stupid,” he said. “The biggest regret of my life is ever chreshing you.” I didn’t understand. They were the ones who betrayed me first, yet they spoke as if I were the guilty one. I clutched his wrist, my strength slowly fading. Tears blurred my vision. When I looked up again, my eyes were empty. Damon’s pupils tightened. “Damon!” He froze, then quickly let go when he saw I was struggling to breathe. I fell hard onto the ground. Coughing, gasping, barely able to catch my breath. Liam rushed in right then. He was about to pull me into his arms when Iris opened the door from the inner room. In that instant, he pushed me away. I stumbled backward, pain shooting through my body. Aiden came out right after. He paused when he saw me on the ground, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t move. Damon glanced at Liam and raised a brow. “Didn’t you say you’d stay by Selene forever? Why are you here too?” Then he laughed, like he suddenly understood everything. “Oh… so even you’re tired of her now.” “What a coincidence. All of us ended up choosing the same mate, over and over again.” His eyes landed on me curled up on the ground, and he sneered. Liam said nothing. But he met my eyes. And then looked away. I felt like I forgot how to breathe. I froze completely. “Your arm… are you okay?” Iris suddenly spoke. Only then did everyone notice my forearm. It was bright red, blistered, the skin rising in painful patches. They all seemed to expect me to cry or lash out. But I didn’t. I slowly pulled myself up on my own. Then I looked at Iris in silence. Her expression was soft, almost kind. They said even in winter, she could grow rare herbs from barren ground. No wonder everyone in the pack liked her… except maybe me. Sensing the tension, Iris gently patted the pup in her arms. “Alex, say sorry to Aunt Selene, okay?” The child buried his face in her chest and refused to speak. Iris sighed helplessly and looked at me. “He’s still young. I’ll apologize for him. I have good burn medicine, I’ll go get it for you.” “No.” Everyone turned to look at me. “I want him to apologize.” Iris’s smile faded slightly. “He’s just a cub. Making him apologize now might be too much…” “Apologize.” “Selene!” Damon cut me off sharply and stepped in front of Iris and the cub, his face dark. “Why are you arguing with a child? Iris already apologized. Do you really need to make him cry?” Aiden didn’t speak, but his furrowed brows said everything. Even Liam shook his head slightly. The three men who once belonged to me now stood together, shielding another woman’s child. Iris gently tugged Damon’s sleeve. She lowered her head and whispered something to Alex. Finally, he turned around and muttered, “…Sorry.” It was reluctant. Muffled. Full of unwillingness. Even so, their expressions stayed grim. Iris looked at me apologetically. “Selene, he said sorry. The burn needs treatment. Let me help you.” She turned to get the medicine. But I suddenly felt cold. So cold I could barely stand. “No need.” I forced the words out. Before anyone could react, I pushed the door shut behind them and stumbled into the freezing wind outside.

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I used to be Boston’s star detective, but I was wrongfully imprisoned for eight years. Furious victim families stabbed me eight times, demanding I pay with my life. My parents disowned me. I lost everything and I suffered through hell in prison. When I got out, I disappeared to a remote fishing town on the Maine coast. I thought life would finally be peaceful, but my ex-wife Serena’s arrival shattered that. She was now Boston’s most celebrated prosecutor, building her name on one high-profile conviction after another. Rain pounded against my shack as neighbors crowded outside, whispering: “Serena stayed single for eight years waiting for him, and Gideon still won’t see her? Ungrateful bastard.” I watched her stand there, soaking in their admiration. Almost laughed. Eight years ago, the person who framed me to save her lover’s career was Serena herself. …… My door stayed locked. Outside, the neighbors felt sorry for Serena. She looked calm, like she’d rehearsed the whole performance. The noise kept getting louder. Finally my boss Tom cracked. He stumbled out of the shack, practically bowing to her: “Ms. Vance, please, we’re just fishermen here. We don’t want trouble.” “This town’s too small for someone like you. If you don’t leave soon with all these people, none of us will have work tomorrow.” He turned and yelled at my door: “Gideon! The DA drove all this way. Get out here!” “Leave him alone. Don’t push him.” The moment I heard that voice, my hands froze on the net. The nylon cord cut into my fingers, drawing blood I barely felt. Eight years and that voice still got under my skin. I knew she wouldn’t leave until she got what she came for. Tom had been good to me. He didn’t deserve this circus. I let out a long breath, stood up, and opened the door. The reporters hit me like a wall. Microphones shoved in my face, cameras flashing, voices overlapping: “How does it feel going from decorated detective to fisherman?” “DA Vance stayed faithful for eight years. Why won’t you see her? Still angry she turned you in?” “Your former rookie’s been chasing her. Any comment on that?” They kept pushing closer. A microphone clipped my jaw. The questions got sharper, meaner. I looked past them and locked eyes with Serena. She was watching me with this cold, calculating expression. My whole body went stiff. I opened my mouth to speak. Nothing came out. The reporters smelled blood. They pressed harder, one asshole nearly shoving me off the porch. That’s when Serena moved. She cut through the crowd and positioned herself between me and the cameras. Her voice came out quiet but razor-sharp: “That’s enough. This is between him and me. It’s private.” She turned to face the cameras with a sad smile. “These men work hard for their living. Let them do their jobs. Everyone, please leave.” The reporters grumbled but backed off. I turned to go back inside. “Gideon.” I forced myself to look at her. Made my voice steady. “What do you need, DA Vance?” She flinched at the formal title. Good. “These years… have you been okay?” The question was obscene coming from her mouth. I wanted to laugh. Instead she stepped closer and reached out. I jerked backward. My heel caught the edge of a bait bucket. Crash. I went down hard, flat on my back. My bleeding hand smashed into the gravel. “Gideon!” She rushed forward, genuine concern flashing across her face: “Are you hurt? Let me help—” “Don’t.” I scrambled back on my hands and knees, used the wall to pull myself up. Blood smeared the wood. “I’m fine.” Tom was staring at me like I’d lost my mind. “DA Vance, if there’s nothing else, I need to go. Early start tomorrow.” Her eyes went soft. Wounded. She reached for my arm: “Gideon, why are we doing this? We don’t have to be so cold to each other.” “You don’t know what these years have been like for me. I—” “Mommy!” A kid came running and crashed into Serena’s arms. Eight, maybe nine years old. Then I saw him. Captain Liam Jenkins, my former rookie, walking up with my parents on his arm. He took Serena’s hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Serena, sweetheart, you should’ve told me you were coming up here.” He smiled warmly at my parents. “Mom and Dad were worried sick when they found out you drove all this way alone.” Then he turned to me. That smile sharpened. “No offense, Mentor. Kid really missed his mom. Plus she’s pregnant again, so we gotta be extra careful. You understand.” My eyes dropped to her flat stomach. If he said she was pregnant… I thought about what the reporters said. Eight years of devoted waiting. What a sick joke. Before I could process it, my parents went for my throat: “Gideon Hale. You’ve got some nerve still breathing.” My father’s voice could strip paint. “You destroyed this family’s reputation. Made us a laughingstock.” My mother jumped in, tears in her eyes but venom in her voice: “Three years ago your father had a stroke. If Liam hadn’t been checking on us regularly, hadn’t rushed him to the ER, he’d be dead right now. Dead, Gideon.” I looked at them. Really looked. Their hair had gone gray. Deep lines carved into their faces. They’d aged so much. All those years I couldn’t be there for them, couldn’t take care of them, it ate at me every day. But watching them look at Serena and Liam like they were the real family, like I was just some embarrassing mistake they’d made… that hurt worse than any shank I’d taken in prison. If they only knew. If they knew Serena and Liam were the ones who framed me, who destroyed an innocent man to cover their own crimes… What would they think then? My father looked at me with nothing but disgust. My mother’s voice dripped pure contempt: “We disowned you eight years ago. As far as we’re concerned, you’re not our son anymore.” She turned to Serena, her voice going soft: “Serena, honey, you don’t owe us anything. This person isn’t worth your time. You and Liam, you’re our family now.” Tom was watching this whole scene unfold. I saw the way he looked at me shift. My hands were shaking. I shoved them deep in my pockets. Serena sighed, all patience and understanding: “Mom, Dad, don’t be too hard on him. People have been talking about you both for years because of what happened. I get why you’re angry.” She gently coaxed them toward the car. But before she left, she turned back to me one last time: “What happened back then… I know I owe you for that. If you ever need anything, you can call me.” Her voice was so sincere I almost believed it myself.

I nodded. Didn’t speak. Serena saw I didn’t refuse. She left satisfied. I knew the truth. I’d avoid them forever if I could. Did she expect me to beg for scraps? After they left, Tom patted my shoulder. His eyes said everything. I knew. Things had changed. Next morning proved it. Tom assigned me the oldest boat. The worst jobs. “Gideon, it’s not that I don’t want to help,” Tom looked uncomfortable. “After yesterday, and you being fresh out of prison… nobody wants to work with you. You’ll have to work alone.” I nodded. Grabbed the nets and headed for that piece of shit boat. Serena had destroyed my peace. Now she was taking everything else. A week straight, I worked myself to death for nothing. Did the hardest jobs for the lowest pay. Then Tom found me and handed me an envelope. “This month’s wages. You should try somewhere else.” He wouldn’t look at me. “This was Serena’s idea, wasn’t it?” My voice was rough. But I already knew. Tom sighed. “DA Vance said it’s for your own good.” For my own good. Those words crushed me. I stood there holding that envelope. My fingers went numb. I didn’t argue. I packed my stuff and left that town. Three days of hitting walls. Then my phone rang. Serena. “Gideon, I’ve arranged a clerical position for you at the DA’s office. Someone will pick you up. You start in three days.” “DA Vance.” I cut her off. “Keep it. I don’t want your charity.” “Just leave me alone.” “Leave you alone?” Her voice stayed calm. “I’m trying to help. You don’t need to treat me like the enemy.” “I remember when you were Boston’s best. I’m giving you a chance to—” “Were. Past tense.” I laughed. Bitter. “Don’t forget who made me into this.” Silence. Then her voice came back colder. “I know you hate me. But you’re destroying yourself and I won’t allow it.” That command in her tone. “If you don’t want clerical, fine. Be a consultant for Liam. He just made Deputy Chief. He needs help. You’re his mentor.” My stomach turned. “No thanks.” “You don’t have a choice, Gideon.” Her voice went soft. Deadly. “You take this job, or Mom and Dad lose the house. At their age, they’ll end up on the street” My blood ran cold. She always knew where to cut.

Serena moved fast. Two days later, her people picked me up and brought me to Boston. Set me up in a shithole apartment. Three days in, someone knocked and told me to follow them. Wouldn’t say where. I walked into an ambush. The door opened onto a press conference. Camera flashes blinded me. Captain Liam sat at the microphone on stage, a red-and-white banner stretched behind him. “Thank you for coming.” His voice was smooth. “We’re here to demonstrate the Boston PD’s commitment to second chances.” He turned to me. Perfect mix of regret and pity in his eyes. “This is Detective Gideon Hale. My mentor. He made mistakes. Serious ones. But he’s paid his debt.” Cameras clicked. “We believe in redemption. People can change. They deserve a second chance.” His voice dropped, more measured now. “The BPD is bringing Detective Hale back as a criminal investigation consultant. He’ll be working with us again.” The reporters went crazy. I sat in that metal chair feeling naked. Stripped of everything. Then Liam stood up. He walked over in front of everyone. Every camera. Every reporter. He pulled out an envelope. Held it out with both hands. “Mentor.” His voice carried through the mic. “This is from me. A welcome-home gift.” A show of charity. Of mercy. I saw the satisfaction flash in his eyes. My stomach flipped. The reporters ate it up. A thousand pictures of Liam’s generosity. I’d become a prop. A symbol of their noble souls. That night, every outlet in Boston ran the story. Headlines everywhere: “BPD Offers Second Chance to Disgraced Detective” “Captain Jenkins Welcomes Fallen Mentor” “DA Vance Stands By Convicted Ex-Husband” I laughed. Bitter. They’d crucified me again, and this time the whole city watched. My parents started visiting. Every time, they looked at Liam like he was a saint. At Serena like she was an angel. “Serena, you work too hard. Taking care of this worthless thing.” My mother’s voice dripped gratitude. “Gideon, look at Liam. If you had half his character, we could die happy.” My father jumped in: “That boy saved my life while you rotted in prison where you belonged.” My mom grabbed Serena’s hand: “You’re pregnant. Don’t stress yourself. If Gideon causes trouble, tell me. I’ll straighten him out.” I watched them. My heart had gone numb. Then one night, Liam came for dinner with my parents. Casual. Friendly. Halfway through, he dropped it: “Oh, Mentor, we picked up some criminals last week. The ringleader has a connection to your old case. The serial murders. He’s one of the victims’ brothers.” My parents froze. “He’s been making threats. About getting even.” “What?” My father’s face went red. He slammed his hand down on the table hard. “This is all your fault! His brother died because of you! Of course he wants revenge. He has every right to want you dead!” My mother started crying. Not for me. “Liam, Serena, please. I know he deserves whatever happens, but we can’t have this affecting you. You’re having a baby!” Liam patted her hand. “Don’t worry, Mom. Serena and I won’t let anything happen. We’ve already talked to these men.” The way he said “talked.” The way his eyes cut to me. Every alarm bell in my head started screaming. What the hell were they planning?

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The Obsidian Claw Pack lives by one cruel, unspoken rule. If an Alpha wants to take a chosen mate, the original Mate must publicly surrender her title. She has to take the Luna’s moonstone necklace off her own neck and place it upon the new woman. The day Julian brought Vanessa to our territory, the whole Pack was waiting for me to lose my mind from the agony of his betrayal. I was his Fated Mate. We’d been in love for seven years. I survived bloody trials to earn this necklace. I took a lethal strike from a rival Alpha meant for his heart. Everyone was sure I’d rather die from the agony of a damaged bond than give up my title. But when Vanessa showed off the temporary Mate mark on her neck, I just calmly took off the necklace. And put it on her myself. Julian swirled the wine in his glass. His predatory eyes were filled with arrogance and satisfaction. “Valerie,” he said. “You’re finally learning your place.” I looked down, my hand on my now-bare collarbone. I chose to obey. But arrogant Julian was a fool. He had no idea. A month ago, a fever brought all my memories back. I wasn’t a Rogue. I’m the lost daughter of the Northern Alpha King. Missing for seven years. In three days, my brother’s Royal Guard is coming to the territory border. They’re coming to take me home. …… It was the Obsidian Claw Pack’s full moon feast. Vanessa tilted her long neck, showing off the ceremonial moonstone necklace to the high-ranking she-wolves around her. Gasps went through the crowd. Then their mocking eyes landed on me in the corner. Julian sat in the Alpha’s seat, his dark eyes flicking my way now and then. After basking in their admiration, Vanessa sauntered over to me, a glass of blood-moon wine in hand. Her eyes fell to my wrist. To the lapis lazuli bracelet he had made for me three years ago. The Moon Goddess runes carved inside were the only thing keeping my wolf’s agonized whimpers over her Mate’s rejection from ripping out of my throat. The only thing keeping me from breaking down in front of them all. Vanessa chuckled, leaning close to my ear. “Valerie, you gave up the necklace. Don’t you think you should give up the rest of the Luna’s jewelry, too?” She reached out, trying to snatch the bracelet. I flinched away. In a flash, she sloshed the deep red wine from her glass all over my dress. A glaring crimson stain bloomed on the white silk. The room gasped. Vanessa stumbled, dropping her glass. It shattered on the floor. She let out a sharp cry, dragging her palm across a shard of glass. A thin red line welled up instantly. “Valerie… why did you push me?” She clutched the nearly invisible cut, her eyes welling with tears as if on cue. “I just wanted to talk to you…” The hall went dead silent. Every wolf’s eyes were on us. For the past seven years, I’d thrown out any she-wolf who tried to get near Julian or challenge me. No mercy. I once threw an Omega who tried to seduce him into the pool in front of the whole pack. This time, before I could even speak, the Alpha’s power slammed into me. It forced my wolf to her knees. A sharp pain shot through our mate bond as it was violently tugged. I bit my tongue to keep from collapsing. “Valerie.” Julian’s voice came from behind me, cold as ice. He strode over, pulling Vanessa into his arms. He examined her hand, which was already healing, his brow furrowed. Then he looked up at me. The eyes I once loved more than anything were filled with disgust. “What the hell is wrong with you now? I just brought Vanessa here. Why are you going after her?” His Alpha command intensified. His tone was laced with accusation, his concern entirely for her. I met his disgusted gaze, fighting the dull ache of our bond being rejected. I didn’t say a word. I just slowly unclasped the bracelet from my wrist. I heard my wolf let out a hopeless whimper. As the pack watched in shock, I held the bracelet out to Vanessa. “You like it? It’s yours. I’m sorry, I lost my balance.” Julian’s brow twitched. A flash of shock in his eyes. Vanessa froze too, forgetting to cry. I took out a handkerchief, wiped the wine from my hands, and knelt down. Every eye in the hall was glued to my back. I picked up the scattered shards of glass. The sharp edges cut my fingers. Drops of blood seeped out, mixing with the red wine on my dress. I couldn’t tell where the wine ended and my blood began. When I was done, I stood up and looked at Julian. “My dress is ruined. I’m going upstairs to change.” I turned and walked to the second floor, my back straight. Julian’s eyes never left my back. Back in my room, I shut the door. I leaned against it and closed my eyes. Julian Thorne. For seven years, my loyalty was yours. Today, that devotion dies.

My phone lit up. A message from my brother. “Val, the Royal Guard is moving. East border. Three days. Dawn.” “What Julian owes you… I’ll make him repay it. A hundred times over.” I stared at the words, my eyes suddenly hot. I traced the word “brother” on the screen. Just as I was about to reply, the door was thrown open. Julian stormed in, snatched the phone from my hand, and threw it on the rug. I looked up. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes were a storm of warring emotions—scrutiny, suspicion, and a flicker of something I couldn’t name. Anxiety. “Valerie.” His thumb dug into my jaw. “What was that tonight?” “What was what?” I asked. “You gave her the necklace. You gave her the bracelet.” His eyes darkened. “You’re not going to fight?” I stared at him. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” My voice was flat, empty. “A graceful, obedient former Luna.” Julian’s pupils contracted. He stared at me for a long moment, then suddenly let go, pulling me into his arms. The scent of pine and forest surrounded me. A smell I once thought I could breathe in forever. But now, it was tainted by the cloying, sickly sweet perfume of Vanessa. The mix made my stomach turn. Julian lowered his head, his lips brushing my ear. “Valerie, I know you were wronged today. But her wolf was nearly shattered saving me. I owe her this. As long as you behave, there will always be a room for you in the Pack House.” It was a promise. An insult disguised as charity. He thought I should be grateful. A frantic knock came at the door. Vanessa’s weak voice drifted through the wood. “Julian, my wolf feels sick… Where are you… Can you come be with me?” Julian’s body went rigid. He let me go. Without hesitation. Without another word. He walked to the door, then paused. “Oh,” he said, his back still to me. “That moon-silk gown in your closet. I want Vanessa to wear it to the alliance banquet tomorrow.” My breath caught. The moon-silk gown. My precious from our mating ceremony five years ago. He had spent a fortune on the world’s last remaining moon-silk. Every stitch was infused with moonlight and the blood of our vows. It was his promise that I would be his one and only mate for life. Last year, I banished a new Omega from the territory just for getting a smudge on that dress. Julian had praised me then, saying what was mine, no one else could touch. Now, he was telling me to give it to Vanessa. My nails dug into my palms, reopening the cuts from the broken glass. Blood welled up again. I looked at his expectant face and slowly nodded. “Fine. I’ll have it sent over tomorrow.” Julian’s shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly. Then he opened the door and hurried to a crying Vanessa. I heard his soft voice comforting her down the hall, followed by the click of the room next door closing. I walked to my desk, pulled out a calendar, and picked up a red marker. I drew a heavy X over today’s date. Two days until my brother comes for me. I slipped out of the wine-stained dress and stepped into the bathroom. Hot water streamed over my body. I stared at my pale face in the mirror. Below my right breast, a vicious old scar crossed my ribs. Five years ago, a rival Alpha swiped for Julian’s heart. I jumped in front of him. The pack healer said another inch and I would have been dead. Behind my left shoulder blade, there’s a dark spot that will never fade. Two years ago, during the moonstone mine border dispute, a silver wolfsbane bullet went through me. It won him a mine worth millions a year. … There were other scars. Too many. Seven years ago, he found me injured, with no memory, and took me in. I repaid him with seven years of loyalty and love. Julian. My debts to you are paid. We are even.

The next morning, I had a maid take the dress box to Vanessa’s room. Ten minutes later, the sharp sound of scissors echoed from the end of the hall. I was walking by with a cup of tea when I saw her. Vanessa was sitting in front of a mirror, a pair of scissors in her hand. The moon-silk gown was spread across her lap. She was cutting it, blade by blade, slicing off the intricate moon-flower pattern on the hem. “This style is ancient,” she sneered to her maids. “How could Julian let me, the future Luna, wear this? I’d be a laughingstock at the banquet.” She looked up and saw me. A flicker of defiance in her eyes. “Don’t you think so, Valerie?” I didn’t answer. I carried my tea and walked toward the medical wing. Five years ago, Julian survived an assassination attempt by a Rogue on the border. The Pack Healer removed the silver wolfsbane bullet, but the toxins had seeped into his blood. When it flared up, his wolf would tear himself apart in agony. For seven years, every single morning, I came here to brew a wolfsbane suppressant. Three hours later, the deep green potion bubbled in its vial, smelling of cool moon-petal herbs. I wrapped the bottle in a cloth and walked toward his study. I was still thirty feet away when I heard voices. It was his Beta, Cedric. “Julian, moving Vanessa into the master suite… isn’t it too soon? The pack sees everything the Luna has done for you these seven years. If you keep this up, she’s really going to leave.” A short silence. Then Julian laughed, a cold, soft sound. “Leave? Where would she go? She was a stray I found half-frozen in a blizzard. I’m going to break that pride of hers. Make her understand who the real Alpha is. Once she accepts reality and learns her place, I’ll give her a spot in the pack. Make sure she’s taken care of.” The Beta sighed. “If you keep humiliating her, don’t you worry she’ll finally give up on you?” Julian scoffed. “Give up? The only thing Valerie knows is how to cling to me. She’s like a vine that can’t survive without its tree. She would never leave me.” The tray in my hands tilted. The scalding potion spilled over the back of my hand. An angry red mark bloomed on my skin. I felt nothing. I calmly placed the tray outside his door, walked to the sink at the end of the hall, and poured three hours of painstaking work down the drain. Just then, Vanessa appeared, wearing the butchered moon-silk gown. The hem was ragged, like a dog had chewed it. She saw me and a smirk spread across her face. “Oh, Valerie, I forgot to tell you. Julian wants me to move into the top-floor master suite tonight. He says it will help my wolf heal. You’ll need to get your things out by today.” The master suite of the Pack House. I had lived there for five years. It was filled with every trace of my life with Julian. I looked at Vanessa’s gloating face and nodded. “Okay.” I walked into the master suite. I didn’t take any jewelry. I didn’t take the diamonds, emeralds, or rare gems Julian had bought for me. I only took the tattered clothes I was wearing when I first arrived. As I was about to leave, my phone buzzed in my pocket. My brother. “Val, your commoner file in the Werewolf Council archives has been wiped clean. Your royal status will be restored. Soon, no one will ever be able to bother you again.” I changed into my old, worn-out clothes and walked out of the master suite. Then, I moved into the darkest, dustiest corner of the Pack House: the basement storage room. It was a forgotten junk room. Not even the lowest-ranking Omega would willingly spend a minute here. I sat there, watching the northern stars through the grimy window. Twelve hours left until I leave the Obsidian Claw territory.

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On the third anniversary of our bond, my mate showed up—with a pregnant woman. He said she was chosen by the Moon Goddess. That night, under the full moon, I knelt at the altar, one hand on my stomach. There was a faint pulse. I’d checked twice.Test results. And my healer instincts. Same answer.I was pregnant. I left my pack for him. Stayed three years. Tried to belong. Healed anyone who needed me. And now… the Moon Goddess gave me this child. Damon would be happy. Right? Maybe he’d look at me the way he did the first time—eyes glowing gold. I was about to stand—The moonstone exploded in silver light. A voice cut through my mind. “The one destined to lead the pack has arrived. They will guide you to glory.” My heart slammed. I looked down at my stomach. The prophecy. It matched. This child… wasn’t just ours. This was the future Alpha. Chosen. I grabbed my dress and ran. I had to tell Damon. I saw him in the hall.Tall. Impossible to miss. I opened my mouth—Then froze. His arm was around a woman. Close. Careful. Gentle. Too gentle. She leaned into him, her belly big—seven, maybe eight months. Damon: “Vanessa, slow down. The steps are steep.” Vanessa: “I’m not that fragile.” He never spoke to me like that. Not once. Not even the night we bonded. Back then, his voice was cold. Like he was finishing a task. My chest tightened. I didn’t move. He saw me. Damon: “Eva. Good. You’re here. This is Vanessa. She needs a prenatal check.” Vanessa: “Hi, Eva. Damon said you’re the pack healer.” He didn’t tell her I was his mate. My hand slipped into my pocket. I held the test. Two pink lines. Maybe he forgot. Maybe she’s just someone new. I forced a smile.“Hi. Follow me.” I reached for her. Then I saw their hands. Fingers locked. Tight. Not letting go. The ring on his finger caught the light. Our bond ring. The one that matched mine. The one he wore—while holding another woman.

I worked in silence. Their hands were still linked together. Damon reached over and smoothed Vanessa’s skirt. Casual. Like he’d done it a hundred times. Vanessa looked me over. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. When did you join?” “You’ve been gone three years,” Damon said. “Lots of new faces.” Three years. My hands kept moving. My mind didn’t. Three years ago — the same year Vanessa left — Damon showed up at my pack. Out of nowhere. Said fate brought him there. Said he fell for me the second he saw me. Said he’d break every rule for me. I believed every word. I bonded with him. I left my whole life behind. I never doubted it. Not once. I thought it was love. Then I found his wallet. There was a photo inside, folded small. A woman with honey-blonde hair, smiling at the camera. The edges had gone white from being touched so many times. I asked him about her. He said it was the past. That woman was standing right in front of me now. Vanessa. She left — and he came looking for me. Stop. Just do the checkup. I helped Vanessa onto the exam table and placed both hands on her belly. My healing energy moved through her. The moonstone glowed. I felt the baby’s heartbeat — strong, steady, healthy. Then I felt something else. A faint golden membrane around her womb. The mark of Alpha bloodline. Genetic. Unmistakable. Damon’s bloodline. He’d had a child with her. Before I ever existed to him. My hands shook. Just slightly. I couldn’t help it. Damon put his hand over Vanessa’s belly right away. “Easy. She doesn’t like pain.” I paused. Adjusted. Said nothing. He had no idea what I was scared of. The night we bonded, I was in real pain. The moment it was over, he was gone. Pack business, he said. Every time after that — rushed. He never really looked at me. He didn’t know I was afraid of pain. But he knew she was. I took a slow breath and finished the exam. The baby inside me moved. A tiny flutter. Like it was telling me it’s okay. My eyes burned. I held it together. “Baby’s healthy. About eight months. Everything looks normal.” “Thank goodness.” Vanessa exhaled. “I was so worried the trip might’ve affected her.” “Moon Goddess is watching over her,” Damon said. He helped Vanessa up, arm around her waist. Protective. Possessive. Like she was the only person in the room. “Eva. File the results.” “Wait, Damon.” My voice stayed steady. “I need to talk to you.”

Damon didn’t turn around. “Tell me later. Vanessa needs to rest.” He didn’t ask what I wanted to say. He just walked out with her, and they were gone. That night, I made our anniversary dinner. White tablecloth. Silver candlesticks. Everything by hand — roasted lamb, mushroom bisque, all his favorites. A bottle of red wine. The candles were lit. The room smelled warm. When Damon came in, I went to him like I always did. Took his jacket. “I made dinner. I have something good to tell you —” “I still have pack business.” “Just eat a little —” “I’m busy. Don’t wait up.” He swapped jackets, didn’t look at the table once, and walked back out. The door clicked shut. The candles kept burning. I sat down in front of all that food and watched the wax drip onto the white tablecloth. Slow and quiet. I poured myself a glass of wine. Didn’t drink it. Ten o’clock. Eleven. The food went cold. At midnight, my phone lit up. I thought it was Damon. It wasn’t. A friend request from an account I didn’t know. The profile photo — Vanessa, smiling. I opened her page. Her latest post was from thirty minutes ago. Dinner at a restaurant. Warm amber light. Wine and roasted meat on the table. And at the edge of the frame — a man’s hand on the back of a chair. I knew that hand. Damon’s. The bonding ring was gone. Just a pale mark where it used to be. The caption: Home. A blue heart. Blue. Like Vanessa’s eyes. Not mine. My eyes are gray. Like the sky during a lunar eclipse. Damon said that the first time he saw me — that they were the most special color he’d ever seen. Special doesn’t mean loved. I know that now. Three years. Over a thousand nights. And the whole time, her photo was folded up inside his wallet. The candle in front of me flickered once — and went out. The room went dark. I turned my phone face-down. Closed my eyes. My hand found my stomach. Still there. Still quiet. Still beating. The Moon Goddess’s words were still in my head. The future leader of the pack. Whose child would that be? I will protect you, little one. I will fight for everything you deserve.

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