The end-of-season hunt concluded the same way it always did in the Grey Stone Pack. Alpha Elena stood at the head of the carcass and called the kill division, her voice carrying the full weight of her rank. Jax stepped forward and claimed the prime organs. He snatched the heart and liver while they were still steaming, taking the raw cuts only high-ranking wolves were allowed to touch. He held them in both hands and never once looked in my direction. I was handed an insult wrapped in gristle. Elena tossed me the bones Jax had already cracked open and sucked dry. His saliva still clung to the marrow, and the stench of his satisfaction was baked into every fracture. It was the kind of scrap a wolf throws to a stray. For five years I had kept Grey Stone’s walls from crumbling. I built their Silver-Trap Boundary System from salvaged wire and old ward components. I reset the perimeter triggers by hand and worked three straight nights during the Rogue siege so the rest of the pack could sleep in their dens. Now I was expected to feast on Jax’s leavings. Alpha Elena found me at the equipment shed later that evening. She leaned in the doorframe with her arms crossed, a smile cutting across her face like a blade. “Silas,” she said, her voice laced with false warmth. “The north ridge ward-triggers are failing again.” “I know,” I said, keeping my back to her. “Regional Alpha Greaves arrives in nine days. We need the perimeter running clean before he sets foot on our land.” She stepped closer. “Fix the wards, Silas. Do this for the pack and I’ll personally push your Transfer Order to the Royal Pack.” I set my wrench down and stared at the dark wooden wall. She had made this exact promise when I rebuilt the flood barrier. She made it again when I ran the emergency generator alone through the siege. For five years she used that Transfer Order as bait, but Jax was always the one who walked away with the reward. “No,” I said. The word came out flat and final. Elena’s smile didn’t move, but her eyes sharpened. “Excuse me?” I turned around and met her gaze. “I said no. I’m done being your pack mule, Elena.” The shed went quiet. Elena studied me for a long moment. “Don’t be reckless. Stay and fix the wards, and I’ll personally guarantee the next Release Order goes to you. No committees. No delays. You have my word as Alpha.” Before I could answer, Jax appeared in the doorway. He was still picking bits of liver from between his teeth, dark blood staining his chin like a badge of his unearned rank. “Elena’s doing you a favor, Omega,” he sneered, dragging the word out like he was scraping mud off a boot. “You should be on your knees thanking her for even noticing you.” He leaned against the frame with a gap-toothed grin. “Tell you what, I’ll let you smell my heart-cut. Maybe that’ll cheer you up.” I wiped the last of the grease from my hands and looked past him to Elena. “Don’t bother. I’m transferring to the Blood Moon Pack. They’ve already offered me the position of Master of Wards with thirty pounds of fresh kill every month, and they put it in writing.” Elena’s composure cracked. “Blood Moon? You go there and you’ll be a masterless stray with a tool belt. They only want your skills, Silas. The second you stop being useful, they’ll drop you like a Rogue carcass.” I buckled on my tool belt and stepped toward the door. “You’ve used me for five years while I starved. At least Blood Moon is honest about what my work is worth.” Elena’s warmth vanished completely. Her eyes went cold and flat. “You need my Alpha’s Seal on your Pack Severance Order. Without my mark, you go nowhere. You will stay in Grey Stone, Silas, because I am the law here. Now fix those ward-triggers. That is a command.” She turned and walked out without a second glance. Jax lingered a moment longer, whistling a taunting tune before following her into the dark. I stood alone in the shed. I thought about the seventeen Rogues who never breached our territory because of the traps I built. I looked at the gnawed bones in the rag, smelled Jax’s stale scent on them, and made my decision. I walked to the north ridge boundary panel and stripped out every custom piece I had ever installed. I pulled the hand-tuned silver-trigger pulses and the pressure wards I had calibrated with my own sweat. Pack property could stay. But my work was leaving with me. On my way back I stopped at the supply post. Old Bren didn’t look up from his pipe. “Nothing for you, Silas. Alpha Elena reallocated your ration to Jax for his supply run to the High Council. You’ll have to manage.” A hollow laugh escaped me. Elena’s “guarantee” was already being paid for with my stolen food. As I walked away I heard Bren muttering to a woman nearby. “Serves him right, playing the hero over those ridge trees when we could have sold the timber.” I didn’t stop. Three years ago I saved those trees because they formed a natural flood barrier keeping the pack dens dry. They called me a traitor then. They were starving me now. I had chosen their lives over their gold, and I would make that same call again. But from this moment on, the fate of the Grey Stone Pack was no longer my concern.

Jax sauntered up to Bren’s window with his hands in his pockets, acting like he owned the whole ridge. “What’s all the noise about?” he asked, all false concern. Bren filled him in on my refusal with obvious pleasure. Jax listened with his head tilted like a patient elder, then turned to me with the look of a man watching a rabid pup. “Silas, man,” he called out, loud enough for the crowd to hear. “Walking out on your pack over a few scraps? What does that say about your loyalty to the bond?” A woman behind Bren shouted her approval. The crowd pressed in tight. Jax’s mouth curved into a slow, satisfied grin. “He told Elena flat out that Grey Stone was beneath him. He called every wolf here a stray.” A massive wolf named Cutter stepped forward and jabbed a finger at my face. “That true, Silas? You calling us strays after everything this pack gave you?” I looked Jax in the eye, my voice flat. “When did I ever say that, Jax?” Jax blinked with wide-eyed innocence. “Right there in the Alpha’s office. That’s why she stormed out. You going to deny it now?” The crowd erupted. Insults flew. They called me an ungrateful traitor and a mutt. Cutter spat at my feet and accused me of refusing to fix his signal-stone because I thought I was better than everyone else. “Cutter,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Your stone cracked because you dropped it off the watchtower. I lent you mine for three weeks, and you still haven’t returned it.” I turned to Marta at the gate post. “The east wards failed because lightning hit the power relay. I spent the whole night on that post so the pack’s entire grid wouldn’t burn out. I got to your triggers the next morning.” The noise dropped. The truth has a way of doing that. But Jax stepped in quickly to keep the anger alive. “That’s the problem with Silas. He keeps score. Every job is a transaction to him, not an act of loyalty.” “Spoken by a wolf who has never done a real day of work,” I said, and pushed past him. I walked to the equipment shed with Bren scrambling behind me, yelling about pack property. I opened the control panel and turned to face him. “Pack property stays, Bren. I’m only taking what’s mine.” I pulled out the custom silver-trigger pulse and the hand-built scent nodes I had assembled from salvage. Bren started sweating the moment he realized I was gutting the heart of the system. “You’re killing the boundary!” he hissed. “I’m removing my parts,” I said, straightening up. “The system will run at forty percent. That’s exactly where it was before I arrived.” I looked over at Jax in the doorway. “You’re the star now, Jax. Fix the wards with that silver tongue of yours. I’ll be watching.”

I went home and slept deep and dreamless for the first time in weeks. Without my custom triggers, the boundary was wide open. A determined Rogue could find the gaps in a matter of hours. By evening, Bren was pounding on my door with three Enforcers behind him. “Silas! The east perimeter is throwing dead zones!” I didn’t open my eyes. “Ask Jax,” I said. “Jax doesn’t know how to—” “Ask. Jax.” I heard them shuffle away into the dark. That night, Jax spent his own gold at the Council outpost to buy generic replacement parts. He came to my window at dawn to brag. “See? The pack doesn’t need you, Omega.” I watched him from behind the glass. He had no idea the generic parts were incompatible with my custom housing. He didn’t know about the manual recalibration the cold required, or that the two systems would fight each other until they failed completely. The Regional Council visit was in eight days and the temperature was dropping. I smiled and went back to sleep. That evening, I caught the Blood Moon signal: two low owl calls spaced three seconds apart. I slipped out the back to find their Beta, a massive wolf named Drum, waiting in the shadows. He handed me a bundle of fresh venison and a flask of dark ale. “Alpha Rhen sends his regards,” Drum said quietly. “He says you’ve been patient longer than anyone should have to be.” “Where do we stand on the severance?” I asked. “Alpha Rhen went straight to the Regional Council to bypass Elena. It’ll take six more days for the Emergency Release to process. Hold on until then, Silas. Whatever they put you through, it ends soon.” I nodded. The warmth of a good meal settled over me. Six days. I could wait six days.

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The Blackwood Pack was leaving.This dark forest could no longer sustain us. Only me,Elara Vega,was forgotten. Felix Sable,our Alpha.He used to brush leaves from my hair and call me”Little Elara,don’t be afraid.”Ever since he claimed the wolfhead crest,ever since I was mauled by a giant bear at sixteen while protecting him…everything changed.The blow fractured my wolf soul.My memory faded,my sense of direction vanished,and I became weaker than the frailest Omega.Worst of all,I could no longer feel the wolf within me,unable to shift.Felix’s gaze lost its warmth,replaced by cold assessment and silent sighs.He never yelled,but his gentle excuses—”You’re too weak,””You need rest”—pushed me away with icy precision.No hatred,just disappointed distance that hurt more than scorn. That evening,I went to his study to ask if the new territory had space for my herb garden.The heavy oak door stood ajar,and Felix’s low voice mingled with the butler’s. “…Patrols near Sterling Pass report suspicious tracks.The migration route must be rerouted!No time to waste!”Felix’s Alpha tone brooked no argument. “Yes,my lord.Supplies and maps will be ready by nightfall.”The butler hesitated.”And…Miss Vega’s arrangements?The elders’proposal?”A pause.”Migration is too dangerous.Her health…she won’t survive.The elders believe a Luna who can’t shift or protect herself would be a liability in the new territory—even a weakness to exploit.They suggest…considering a stronger,more suitable mate to solidify our position.” My heart lurched,nails biting my palm. Felix was silent—a silence that crushed me.When he spoke,his voice was steady,icy. “Elara’s limitations are clear,butler.”He stated it as fact.”A broken wolf soul,unable to shift—lethal flaws.Migration isn’t a picnic;it’s a fight for survival.One mistake—wild beasts,a blizzard,even falling behind—would kill her.She needs a safe haven,not a death march with the pack.” Another pause,as if acknowledging the elders’suggestion.”For now,survival comes first.The new territory is unsecure.I can’t afford distractions—extra guards,constant worry.It endangers the entire pack.Staying in the ancestral manor,where she’s familiar and cared for,is best.”He didn’t endorse replacing me,but his words did.”Constant worry”,“endangers”—those words shattered my last hope. Anger,shame,and the fury of being labeled a liability surged.Again!Exile masked as”safety,”abandonment justified as”duty.”Was this empty manor to be my grave?The elders’proposal,his silence…a blade hovering over our bond. No.This time,I refused to be discarded.I’d prove that even with a broken soul,frail body,and faulty memory,I wasn’t just a burden to be pitied.I’d reach the new territory on my own! I raced to my cold tower room,a single thought burning.I’ll beat him there.Let Felix Sable see his”fragile liability”walk the path he deemed impossible. I yanked open the drawer,grabbing my faded wildflower-patterned linen bundle.Inside went thick wool dresses,a pouch of dried herbs(rosemary for calm,thyme for cold),a small biscuit mold,honey-oat cakes wrapped in parchment—my meager tools for survival.And a heavy pouch of silver coins—my lifeline. At dawn,the manor still slept.I slipped out like a shadow.The market was quiet,coachmen shouting destinations. “Where to,miss?”A bearded driver eyed me sideways. I froze.Where?The new territory’s name…Sterling…Sterling…it swam in my fractured memory,slippery as an eel. “Hurry up!Blackwood Vale?Silverflow Town?Broken Tooth Pass?”The driver waved impatiently. I feared that disdainful look—the look of being deemed a fool.In panic,I shoved coins into his hand.”St…Sterling!Take me near Sterling Pack!”I clung to the name I’d overheard—Sterling,the powerful pack bordering our new home. The carriage jolted over rough roads.I huddled in the corner,clutching my bundle like a lifeline.Only when the manor’s spire vanished did I dare breathe,tears stinging my eyes—fear,defiance,and the ache of abandonment. Inside,laborers chatted around a charcoal stove. “Hey,heard about Alpha Alaric Argent—tough as nails!But still single…” “Idiot!”an older man spat.”He’s had a betrothed since childhood!Noble blood,perfect match!Wedding’s imminent!” I leaned against the cold carriage wall,lips parched.Betrothed.Perfect match.The words struck like ice.Felix and I had been”promised,”once.Now,to the elders,to him,my”white wolf bloodline”meant nothing next to my inability to shift. Flashbacks:he picking bluebells for me,comforting me after nightmares. So when the dark magic-twisted bear charged at Felix,my”white wolf bloodline”instincts overrode fear.I shoved him aside…then darkness,and the agony of a shattered soul.I woke to pack Doctor Aelwyn’s grave sigh:”Little one…too deep a wound.Your wolf soul…the ability to shift…memory,direction…”He didn’t finish,but his silence was a death sentence. I was sixteen,newly aware of my bloodline’s political weight and my arranged fate with Felix.The Sables compensated,reaffirming:At adulthood,Felix will make me Luna. By my bed,the budding Alpha clasped my hand,eyes conflicted:”Elara,don’t worry.When I become Alpha,I will make you my Luna.Blackwood needs your blood.I’ll…take care of you.” I believed him.Or chose to.Year after year,I watched the old apple tree bloom and fall. At eighteen,on another apple harvest day,I baked herb biscuits with trembling hands and approached his study. “Felix!I’m…I’m an adult now!”I held out the warm tray,voice shaking. He was with a distinguished visitor—later,I learned it was Alaric Sterling.Felix turned,frowned at the sight of me,irritation and embarrassment flashing in his eyes.He glanced at servants,voice clipped:”Your memory’s playing tricks on you,Elara.The betrothal requires you to be‘fully recovered,’fit to lead as Luna.You’re nowhere close.Rest,and stop fantasizing.” As Alaric approached,Felix’s irritation vanished,replaced by a polished smile.”Lord Alaric!Congratulations.Your fiancée is noble,brilliant,and composed—a perfect partner,no doubt your greatest asset.”He didn’t look back. I stood there,holding the now-cold,bitter-smelling biscuits,retreating to the icy courtyard steps.His praise for Alaric’s”greatest asset”vs.his dismissal of me—cruel contrast.The elders’whispers,his cold logic—chains tightening. I wanted to scream:It’s your memory that’s playing tricks on you,Felix! But it didn’t matter.I,the baker,the herb girl,would never be an”asset.” Being left behind didn’t matter. I…would go alone. Just as you always called me a burden on your journeys. This time…I’ll go first.To the place you’re abandoning me for. Will you finally see…that your”weakness”is stronger than you think?

The carriage jolted to a halt,and the curtain was yanked aside.”Inspection for Sterling Territory!Out!”a cold voice barked. I was hauled down,staring up at the imposing Sterling Keep.A guard announced,”Single young individual found!Suspicious identity!” The captain leading the patrol scanned me.”Take her.Fits the conscription profile.Send her to the Pack Healer’s lodge.” Two Warrior Attendants seized me,ignoring my struggles,and dragged me toward the stone cottage flanking the keep. Pack Healer Lyra rushed to meet us,speaking rapidly.”Hurry!Wash her up and change her clothes!The ceremony must start!”She smelled of herbs and antiseptic. I was forced into a chair by Omega Caretakers.They scrubbed me down and stuffed me into an oversized white dress emblazoned with the Sterling wolf crest.Finally,a rough,heavy dark wooden mask lined with wolf fangs and bone shards was clamped over my face,blocking my vision. “Escort the Luna to the ceremony hall!”Lyra sighed in relief. Trapped in the mask’s darkness,I was half-carried through stone corridors,ears filled with hushed whispers and distant trumpets—the signal for the wedding to begin. “Poor thing,she’s shaking nonstop…” “Shh!Orders are the ceremony must proceed…” “Did the scheduled noble bride run off?Is this a replacement?” “Captain Edmund’s situation is also problematic…” My heart raced.Replacement?Like me?Had the crying bride fled,and I’d been grabbed to take her place?The sobbing girl… In a corner near the entrance to the bustling hall,I heard muffled,terrified sobs. “Sister?”I turned my head,voice muffled by the mask.”Why are you crying?” The sobs intensified.”…Forced to replace Lord Edmund’s fated mate…He’ll definitely notice…I’m in love with a warrior…” Memories flashed!The laborers had said Alaric’s marriage was a political union!I was substituting the political bride,while she was impersonating a bonded fated mate!This could never stay hidden! “If you’re replacing a fated mate,you’ll be exposed!”I hissed,voice sharpening.”Run!Now!I’m here as a stand-in for Alaric’s political match—maybe I can fool them!Go to your lover!I’ll explain to Lord Alaric and keep them from blaming you!” Her voice trembled with desperate hope.”…Thank you!May the Moon Goddess bless you!”Fabric rustled,and her footsteps faded quickly. “Hurry!The ceremony’s starting!”Lyra’s voice approached.I was seized again and shoved toward the door radiating overwhelming Alpha power—still wearing the ill-fitting white dress embroidered with the Sterling wolf crest. In the mask’s darkness,at the altar stood a figure as massive as a mountain—Alaric Argent.His Alpha presence made my knees weak,yet a strange sense of calm washed over me,overriding my fear. Ancient vows echoed.A Warrior Attendant thrust a heavy silver ceremonial cup into my hands.Alaric’s palm closed over mine,steady and strong,as we raised the cup together.The vows were completed. After the ceremony,I was escorted to Alaric’s chambers.I sat on the stone bed draped in furs,clutching the oversized dress,awaiting my strange husband. Steady footsteps approached the door.It swung open,and he entered,carrying the scent of night dew and faint blood.He picked up the silver ritual dagger on the table and advanced toward me—to remove the mask. “Lord Alaric!”An urgent report came from outside the door,”The tenant dispute in the southern border has escalated.Representatives from Oak Hollow and Grayborne are already waiting in the council chamber for your personal ruling!” Alaric’s hand froze.His Alpha aura carried a flicker of impatience,but he only paused briefly before saying coldly,”Understood.”The dagger was carefully set aside.He turned toward the door,then halted at the threshold,tilting his head slightly.His voice filtered through the mask,”Rest,Luna.No need to wait up.Pack matters take precedence.” “Go ahead,the pack’s affairs are crucial…I’ll stay here,”I replied instinctively,my voice trembling slightly. His footsteps vanished quickly. I removed the heavy headdress and mask.An Omega Caretaker entered,”Luna,please forgive—” “No need,”I murmured.”The front lines need him.” Deep into the night,Alaric hadn’t returned.His Warrior Attendant knocked softly.”Luna,Lord Alaric may be out all night.He left his personal wolfhead insignia—it’s dusty and…stained with blood.I dare not clean it without permission.” On the table,wrapped in soft leather,was a heavy silver badge:a majestic wolf head,edges worn,a speck of dark red blood on its fangs. I took the soft deer hide wrapping the badge,dampened it,and gently wiped away the dirt and blood.The badge gleamed in the firelight.With a charcoal pencil,I lightly sketched two overlapping tiny pine needle outlines on the smooth back surface of the badge. After cleaning,I wrapped the badge again.As dawn broke,I leaned against the fireplace,clutching it,and drifted into a light sleep. In my half-dream,a familiar scent surrounded me.A large hand gently brushed hair from my face and tucked the blanket securely around my shoulders.His thumb restrainedly stroked the top of my head. The door closed softly. Outside,Alaric whispered to the Omega Brigid,”Grandma Isolde will meet her soon.You know her…strict demands.Ensure…She doesn’t make things difficult for the Luna.”

Felix’s POV “Miss Vega’s missing.” When the butler rushed to inform me,my quill hesitated mid-air over the document,but I quickly resumed reviewing the papers,not bothering to look up as I interrupted, “What is it this time?Does the herb garden need moonflowers replanted,or has the kitchen run out of honey again?Tell her such trivial matters don’t require special reporting.I don’t have time for her to fuss over these things.” I’ve truly been overwhelmed lately. The Blackwood Pack is about to embark on its migration,and as Alpha,I need to personally confirm every preparation.From supply stockpiles to migration routes,from the accommodation of the elderly,weak,sick,and disabled to potential threats along the way,every link cannot be overlooked.What’s more troublesome is that the pack elders have been frequently pressuring me to reassess the candidate for Luna. By the time I finished the last supply list,it was already dark outside the window. At dinner,Elara’s usual seat at the long table was empty.Servants carefully placed the cutlery,afraid to make a sound. I put down my knife and fork,my voice cold and hard,”Since she doesn’t dine on time,there’s no need to save her food tonight.” The hall fell silent immediately,with only the occasional soft crackling of firewood in the fireplace. The night wind carried the breath of early snow through the window gap.When I got up to close the window,my gaze involuntarily swept over the training ground.In the moonlight,those claw marks of varying depths were still clearly visible,like marks engraved in time. I suddenly remembered when we were young,Elara was still a skinny cub,yet she dared to confront a group of Alpha cubs for me.At that time,I accidentally failed in training and was almost backlashed by a out-of-control barrier spell.It was Elara who unhesitatingly rushed forward,shielding me with her body and taking a heavy blow directly. She was obviously weaker than me,yet she always tried to be brave. When did my distress for her turn into impatience? It was later,I suppose,after her wolf soul was shattered,and she couldn’t even keep up with basic combat training,yet stubbornly insisted on studying herbs.Those failed attempts that blew up the herb garden,those cloyingly sweet honey teas,those strangely scented but highly effective potions…each one made me both irritable and helpless. I should have been the one who knew best how stubborn she was. “…Forget it,”my tone softened involuntarily,”tell the kitchen to prepare some meat soup and send it to her.” Suddenly,the captain of the guard knelt on one knee,his voice trembling,”Alpha,forgive my sin!Miss Vega…has been missing since yesterday…” The air instantly froze. The butler stepped forward in a timely manner,respectfully handing me a scroll,”My lord,the migration supplies have been inventoried.However…”He cautiously lowered his voice,”Regarding Miss Vega’s placement,the council hopes to finalize the plan before departure.Considering the harsh migration environment,they suggest…” My fingertips tapped lightly on the table.Although my voice was not loud,it made everyone unconsciously straighten their backs.I slowly stood up,and the moonlight stretched my shadow very long. “Send my order,”my voice was calm,”all patrols immediately launch a search,focusing on investigating the herb market and the southern honey workshop.” A self-proclaimed clever guard whispered in persuasion,”Lord Alpha,Blackwood isn’t the only one with a white wolf.Why do you have to…” When my gaze swept over the young guard who made the proposal,he immediately lowered his head,and the fur on his neck involuntarily stood up.Although there was no furious rebuke,the oppressive feeling from a top-tier Alpha made everyone understand the seriousness of the matter. “Search,”my voice was as cold as ice,”turn every inch of land upside down.” The firelight in the fireplace flickered on and off,casting light on an unremarkable glass jar in the corner—inside lay a bunch of dried moonflowers and several strands of silver-white wolf hair stained with dark red spots.

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After the divorce, I spent a million the hottest male escort in the city. The price was worth every penny—he was gorgeous, ripped, and knew exactly how to please. Photos of me and the mysterious man on my penthouse balcony spread through the entire social scene overnight. The next morning, my ex-husband Sebastian Brooks showed up at my door. He had his men drag the man away, then turned on me with ice in his eyes. “Where did he touch you?” I smiled lazily. “Lips, breasts, between my legs—everywhere you used to like. He touched it all.” Rage flashed in his eyes as he barked orders to security. “Break his legs. Throw him in the gutter.” I stripped off my soaked blouse and headed for the shower. “Do whatever you want.” Three years ago, my best friend Miranda sent me a video. She questioned why I’d hidden my illness and let my daughter donate her liver to save me. In the video, my daughter was lying in a hospital bed, beaming with pride. “I love my mommy more than anything! I’m donating my liver to her voluntarily! Mommy, get well soon!” I stared at my perfectly healthy medical report, completely confused. I wasn’t sick. So who the hell was this “mommy” my daughter was donating her liver to? I immediately instructed my assistant: “Freeze my husband and daughter’s cards. And draft divorce papers.” “I won’t fight for custody. Let her have her precious mother-daughter bond!”

Following the address Miranda sent, I rushed to a private hospital on the outskirts of the city. Miranda had just flown in from the airport. She looked like she wanted to say something but held back. I shook my head. “Save it, girl. We’re going to catch them red-handed!” As we approached the VIP ward, security stopped us. “Sorry, CEO Sebastian has reserved this entire floor for his wife’s liver transplant surgery. No unauthorized personnel allowed!” Miranda’s brow furrowed as she looked me up and down. “His wife? Lily, are you sure you’re not sick? ” “Don’t hide it from me. I’m the best transplant surgeon in the world. If you’re ill, I’ll treat you!” I rolled my eyes. “You’re the one who’s sick, babe!” Then I turned to the guard, teeth clenched. “I’m Sebastian Brooks’ ‘friend.’ I’m here to visit his wife, Lily Sterling, and their daughter Chloe!” The security guard scoffed, eyeing me with pure disgust. “You can’t even get CEO Sebastian’s wife’s name right, and you’re trying to kiss ass? Get this through your thick skull: His wife is Victoria Vance! The sole heiress to the Sterling Empire!” “I’ve seen plenty of nobodies like you trying to suck up with gifts. Leave them here and get lost!” Miranda’s frown deepened. “Sterling Empire? Isn’t that your family’s company? Who the hell is Victoria Vance?” Rage boiled in my chest. I’d already pieced together the truth. Victoria, the woman Sebastian always called “just a friend.” Also known as “mommy” to my daughter Chloe. Miranda’s eyes widened in shock. Finally, she understood what was happening. She took a deep breath and pulled out her credentials. “I’m the lead surgeon for this operation. I just flew back from overseas.” The guards exchanged nervous glances and finally let us through. The hallway outside the ward was packed with people. I immediately spotted Sebastian and Victoria, arm-in-arm, soaking up compliments and congratulations. “Mr. Brooks and CEO Victoria—what an enviable power couple!” “The most enviable part? CEO Victoria gave Mr. Brooks such a sweet, devoted daughter!” “So young, yet willing to risk her life to donate her liver to save her mother! That little girl is truly Ms. Vance’s treasure!” Victoria looked smug. “What can I say? I’m absolutely obsessed with my daughter! Back when we wanted to conceive her, I had to beg Sebastian to try eighteen different positions before we finally succeeded!” I frowned instinctively. Sebastian was conservative. In all our years of marriage, he’d been prudish about sex—never willing to experiment. Even saying something flirty would earn me a cold glare and accusations of being shameless. But now? He wasn’t angry at all. Instead, he playfully scolded her. “How dare you say something like that in public?” Sebastian wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close shamelessly. “Did I lie? To give birth to our sweet Chloe, you practically drained me dry! I deserve a medal!” The crowd erupted in laughter. Some people joked they wanted to learn her “advanced techniques.” Sebastian grinned and pulled Victoria closer, pretending to reenact one of their positions. My blood boiled. “You bitch!” I lunged forward and slapped Victoria hard across the face. It happened so fast no one could react. Sebastian gasped and rushed to catch Victoria before she stumbled. He turned on me, furious. “Who has the guts to lay a hand on my wife?” Chloe, who’d been lying in the ward waiting for surgery, came running out. “Mommy, are you okay?” The next second, both father and daughter froze when they saw me. Chloe stopped in her tracks and shrank back. I laughed bitterly. “Sebastian Brooks, you’re such a devoted father! You’re actually letting my daughter donate her liver to your mistress?”

The hallway fell silent. Countless eyes darted between me and Chloe, confused and curious. “Wait, she’s saying CEO Victoria’s daughter is hers?” “Then what about Mr. Brooks? Is CEO Victoria cheating on him?” The whispers made Sebastian flush with embarrassment. “What the hell are you talking about? Chloe is Victoria’s daughter! Who gave you permission to slander us?” “Lily Sterling, I’m begging you—stop clinging to me like a pathetic stalker! I’ve told you a thousand times, I already have a wife and a child…” He tightened his grip on Victoria’s arm. Victoria smirked and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry, babe. I won’t let anyone come between us. After all, except for my few days each month, you’re in my bed every single night, servicing me in every way I ask. Where would you even find time to cheat?” A few clever lines, and suddenly everyone was looking at me with disgust and contempt. They’d nailed me to the pillar of shame as “the mistress.” I laughed in disbelief. “Sebastian Brooks, put your hand on your heart and say it again! Who’s the real homewrecker here?” “Who is Chloe’s mother?” Miranda’s face darkened. She snapped at them. “This is insane! Without Lily Sterling’s consent as Chloe’s biological mother, who gave you the authority to let her donate her liver to a stranger?” Victoria’s expression soured. “Who the hell are you? This isn’t your business!” Sebastian took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “I’ll say this one last time. My wife is Victoria Vance! Chloe is our daughter!” “Lily, I know exactly what you’re trying to do! You want to sabotage my wife’s surgery so you can swoop in and take advantage!” “Dream on! Security—throw them out!” The crowd suddenly understood. “This homewrecker is disgusting! Trying to sabotage Ms. Vance’s surgery right before it starts? That’s basically attempted murder!” “What are you waiting for? Call the cops!” “Thank God we didn’t believe her lies. If we’d delayed Ms. Vance’s surgery, who could handle the Sterling Empire’s wrath?” Victoria shook her head with a theatrical sigh, her eyes full of mockery. “Can’t blame her. My husband is just too irresistible!” “But sorry, Ms. Sterling—Sebastian only has eyes for me!” “Honestly, I didn’t want Chloe to go through with this. But she loves me so much, she cried and begged to donate her liver to save her mommy!” I was shaking with rage. “You sick bitch! Chloe is only fourteen years old!” Even with Sebastian’s two bodyguards holding my arms, I forced myself forward and kicked Victoria hard in the stomach. Her face went white. She clutched her abdomen and collapsed. “Sebastian… it hurts… Am I going to die before the surgery?” Sebastian rushed to support her, then turned on me, his voice venomous. “Pin that bitch down!” The bodyguards obeyed. They grabbed my arms and slammed me to the floor. My face smashed against the cold tile with a sickening crack. Blood filled my mouth. “Sebastian Brooks, have you lost your mind? You’re attacking me for this whore?” Sebastian stood over me, panting. He snatched a rubber baton from one of the guards and slammed it into my head. Pain exploded through my skull. Blood poured into my eyes, blurring my vision. Then he stepped on my head. “If anything happens to Victoria’s surgery, I’ll make you pay with your life!”

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After the seventh time Alpha Arthur locked me in the dungeon, a voice spoke in my head. “Die, and you’ll awaken.” It told me I wasn’t just human. Witch blood slept in my veins—blood that would ignite only in death. So I became the perfect Luna. I stopped caring that Arthur spent every night in Elara’s chambers. I stopped obsessing over his promise—one mate, forever. When Leo knocked over the stew I’d made, I just had the maid wipe his hands. Said I’d never cook for him again. When the pack member brought that bowl of wolfsbane brew—even knowing I was pregnant—I drank it without hesitation. By the time Arthur arrived, the floor was soaked in blood. He pressed his silver blade to my throat, voice breaking. “Sera, do you hate me this much?” “You’re a healer. You know what that poison does. And you still killed our pup?” I stared at the blade. Smiled. Then leaned into it. …… The moment the blade pierced my skin, Arthur’s golden eyes went wide. He yanked the dagger back, but it was too late. The silver edge slashed across my throat. Blood pearled along the wound, soaking into my white cotton dress. The dagger clattered to the floor. Arthur dropped to his knees, pressing his hand against my neck, trying to stop the bleeding. “Sera, you’ve lost your damn mind!” Pity I didn’t die. I answered his first question instead. “You said it yourself, Alpha. One son is enough.” “If I bore you another pup, wouldn’t that make poor widowed Elara feel inadequate? After all, she only gave your brother a daughter before he died.” Arthur’s breath hitched. “What did you just call me?” I blinked. It took me a moment to realize how distant we’d become. After we mated, I always called him Arthur. His mother despised me. She said my low birth and lack of upbringing made it improper to call him by his name. But I refused to change. Now, I’d finally learned my place. His fingers tightened around my throat. I gasped in pain. He loosened his grip, just slightly. His voice was a snarl in my ear. “I told you. My brother’s death left the Pack unstable. Taking Elara under my protection was a necessity. Once she bears a male heir, I won’t touch her again.” “I’m begging you, Sera. Just wait a little longer. Please.” Wait. That word had kept me alone for three years. From once a month, to every single night—Arthur sleeping in Elara’s bed while I lay awake, crying until I had nothing left. I waited through Elara’s pregnancy. Then Arthur moved into her wing entirely, claiming she needed protection during her vulnerable state. I waited another year. She gave birth to a daughter. And still, he kept going to her chambers. I couldn’t wait anymore. So I fought back. I forbade him from seeing her.I screamed, cried, threatened—like a madwoman. All I wanted was my mate. The one who was supposed to be mine alone. But to Arthur, I’d become an insufferable, jealous shrew. Funny. When he marked me, he said I was his fated mate. Said he loved my bold, unfiltered heart. Swore I’d be his only one. No others. Over seven years, he locked me in the Dungeon again and again. To teach me a lesson. To make me like Elara. Graceful. Compliant. Chained in the cold and dark until I could barely stand. All I got: “Sera, when will you learn?” The pup in my belly came from a Pack celebration. Arthur got drunk and stumbled into my bed. I thought he’d come to make peace. But when he reached his climax, he moaned Elara’s name. I swallowed the bitterness like bile mixed with blood. I lifted my head and looked him dead in the eye. “You don’t need to lie to me anymore, Alpha.” “From now on, go to Elara whenever you want. Stay the night. I won’t say a word.” “And if that’s still not enough, I’ll request a severing of the mate bond. I’ll set you both free.”

Arthur’s chest heaved, veins bulging in his neck. “Sera, how much longer are you going to torture me?” “Elara and I are nothing. She’s my brother’s widow. That’s it!” He sounded so sincere. Like he actually believed what he was saying. I shook my head. “You’re overthinking it, Alpha. I mean every word.” Something I said set him off again. He shoved me. Hard. My head cracked against the corner of a wooden chair. Pain exploded through my skull. He looked panicked for half a second, reaching out like he wanted to help. But the damage was done. My pulse weakened. Breath came shallow. I knew my body was shutting down. The wolfsbane. The blade. The blow to my skull. My human body couldn’t survive all three. I knew that now. I had maybe twenty-four hours left. I pushed Arthur’s hand away and staggered to my feet. “Leave, Alpha. I’m tired.” I turned toward my bedroom. As I walked, blood dripped from beneath my skirt, leaving a dark trail across the floor. Suddenly, the door burst open. Leo—seven years old—charged in and hurled his toy at me. It struck my cheek. I felt the sting, the warmth of blood. Arthur froze for a moment, then grabbed Leo by the scruff of his neck and swatted him. “What the hell are you doing?!” Leo wailed, but he didn’t apologize. “I don’t want her as my mother!” “Why can’t she just stay locked up in the Dungeon forever?!” Arthur’s face went rigid. “Who taught you to say that?” Leo squirmed free, his little face red with indignation. “You did! You said you hated her!” “You said if she hadn’t saved you that day in the mountains, you never would’ve mated a lowborn herbalist!” “And she’s always so mean to Aunt Elara! She doesn’t deserve to be Luna!” He pointed a chubby finger at me, his face twisted with childish hatred. “Bad mother! Father and I both hate you! Just disappear already!” Out of the mouths of pups. Every word was a blade, shredding what little hope I had left. Years ago, Arthur was ambushed during a border skirmish. I was seven months pregnant, but I rode out anyway with a small cavalry to rescue him. We won. Barely. I took over a dozen wounds. The trauma triggered early labor. I was dying on that blood-soaked bed when Arthur gripped my hand, tears streaming down his face. “Sera, don’t leave me.” “If you die, I’ll follow you. I swear it.” So I fought. I survived. But Leo was born too early. The Pack physician said he’d die within three days. I refused to believe it. I stayed awake for weeks, researching every remedy, every obscure herb. Leo’s cries grew weaker and weaker. Desperate, I made a pilgrimage to the Moon Temple. Barefoot through the snow. Every three steps, I knelt and bowed. Every five steps, I prayed. My knees bled. My feet went numb. Blood stained the stone path all the way to the top. I don’t know if my sincerity moved the Moon Goddess. But in the end, Leo survived. But his body remained fragile. When winter came, I kept him indoors. Made him rest. Watched what he ate. Elara let him run wild in the snow. Fed him frozen meat and sweets. Days later, he’d collapse. Weak. Shivering. Too sick to shift. Arthur was always away on Pack business. Elara avoided him, terrified of getting sick herself. I was the one who sat with him. Nursed him back to health. When he recovered, he hated me for it. Blamed me for keeping him locked up. For the bitter tonics. For the rules. But Elara? She was the fun one. The one who gave him treats and freedom. She was the one he loved.

Arthur’s expression darkened. “Leo, shut your mouth! Don’t say another word!” Then he turned to me, scrambling to explain. “He’s just a pup. Someone in the household must’ve been gossiping—” In the past, I would’ve been devastated. I would’ve lectured Leo, tried to teach him right from wrong. All I ever got in return was his hatred. Now? I was too tired to care. Arthur noticed the change in me. He frowned, studying my face. Then he decided I was playing games. “What are you plotting now, Sera?” “Playing the stoic martyr doesn’t suit you. You just look pathetic.” “Since you lost the pup, stay in your chambers and recover. And stop targeting Elara and her daughter.” He grabbed Leo’s hand and stormed out. The moment they stepped outside, I heard them laughing. Arthur said he was going to buy Elara a new sapphire necklace. Leo said he was going to use his allowance to buy his baby sister a gift. I still wore the moonstone pendant Arthur gave me at our engagement. He’d been shy. Said he’d get me something better someday. Ten years later, the pendant was tarnished and cracked. He never kept that promise. At every Pack gathering, I was the poorest-dressed Luna in the room. Whenever I asked for new jewelry, Arthur said we needed to be frugal. The Pack’s expenses were high. Then spent fortunes on enchanted oils and potions for Elara. I’d given him everything. And he’d given me nothing. A wave of dizziness crashed over me. My vision darkened at the edges. My fingers had gone numb. Cold spread through my limbs. The voice whispered through the fog: Ten hours remaining. My body was shutting down. I had ten hours left. I sat at my vanity, staring at the hollow-eyed woman in the mirror. I took off the moonstone pendant. Ran my fingers over its worn surface. Then I snapped it in half and tossed it into the fireplace. I spent the next hour burning everything I’d ever made for Arthur. Embroidered leather pouches. Woven riding gloves. Little shirts I’d sewn for Leo when he was a baby. Two entire chests, full of hope and heartbreak. I watched it all turn to ash. When the last ember died, I lay down on my bed. And I waited. But the door slammed open. Arthur stormed in, fury radiating off him in waves. He grabbed me by the arm and hauled me out of bed. “I knew you couldn’t behave.” He threw something at my feet. A cloth pouch, reeking of dark magic. Filled with bone fragments and dried wolfsbane. Elara stood in the doorway, cradling her infant, tears streaming. “Arthur, I don’t want to believe Sera would do this.” “But this curse bag… it was hidden in her room. And it has my daughter’s name written inside…” Her voice broke. Arthur’s face went cold. He kicked me in the chest. I felt ribs crack. “Jealousy is one thing, Sera. But cursing an infant? My daughter?” Blood poured from my mouth, splattering across the floor. The wound on my neck tore open again. Arthur loomed over me, disgust written across his face. “Nothing to say? Not even going to deny it?” I wiped the blood from my lips and glanced at the curse bag. Then I laughed. “That fabric is rare. Even pack Alphas struggle to get it.” “You gave Elara every bolt that came into this estate, Arthur.” “So how did I get my hands on it?” Arthur’s expression shifted. He stared at the pouch. Elara’s face went pale. “Are you accusing me? I did use that fabric for dresses, but I lost the scraps weeks ago—” “Enough!” Arthur cut her off, unwilling to question his precious widow. In his mind, Elara was pure. Innocent. So it had to be me. “Stop making excuses, Sera.” “My daughter is just a newborn. Elara is still recovering.” “If you can’t tolerate this Pack, then this Pack has no place for you.” He snapped his fingers. “Lock her in the dungeon. No food. No water.” “She stays there until she learns.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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