Three days. Seventy-two hours of darkness, broken only by the occasional beam of light when a guard slid a tray of food through the small opening in the metal door. The pack jail smelled of mildew and despair, the stone walls seeping cold that penetrated to my bones. I'd spent those endless hours curled on a thin mattress, my wolf pacing restlessly within me, whimpering for our mate who had thrown us away so easily.

When the door finally creaked open at dawn on the fourth day, I had to shield my eyes from the sudden brightness. A young Delta stood there, his expression carefully blank.

"Alpha says you're free to go," he muttered, not meeting my gaze.

No apology. No explanation. Just released like an afterthought.

I stumbled out into the cool morning air, my legs weak from disuse. The walk back to the pack house—my home for three years—felt like crossing a battlefield. Pack members stopped their morning activities to stare, some with pity, others with barely concealed smirks. News traveled fast in a werewolf pack, especially when it involved the public humiliation of their Luna.

Former Luna, a voice whispered in my mind. That's what Victoria had called me. Temporary.

The grand foyer of the Alpha's quarters greeted me with the scent of unfamiliar perfume. Where my carefully selected landscape paintings once hung, Victoria had placed ornate mirrors and gaudy artwork. The warm earth tones I'd chosen had been replaced with stark whites and golds. Every trace of my existence had been systematically erased.

Except for the garbage bags.

Three black plastic sacks sat in the corner like an afterthought, bulging with what I recognized as my possessions. My books. My clothes. My life, reduced to trash.

"I see you've been released."

Ethan's voice sent a jolt through me—part pain, part longing. My wolf surged forward, desperate for his touch despite everything. I turned to find him leaning against the doorframe of his office, arms crossed over his chest. He looked immaculate in his tailored suit, not a hair out of place. As if he hadn't just kept his mate in a jail cell for three days.

"Why?" The question escaped before I could stop it, raw and broken.

"Let's not make a scene in the hallway." He gestured to his office. "Inside."

I followed him like I always had, hating myself for the obedience ingrained by years of submission. His office smelled of leather and power, the large desk a barrier between us as he sat in his imposing chair. I remained standing, refusing the seat he didn't offer.

"Our arrangement has reached its conclusion, Sophia." His voice was business-like, as if discussing a contract with a supplier. "The three years we agreed upon have passed."

"Agreed upon?" I whispered, confusion clouding my thoughts. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck—that tell I'd noticed whenever he felt cornered. "Don't play naive. It doesn't suit you. We had a deal: I accept you as my Luna for three years, and in return, you provide stability for the pack during our alliance negotiations."

The room seemed to tilt. "There was never any deal, Ethan. We're mates. The Moon Goddess—"

"The Moon Goddess made a mistake." He echoed Victoria's words so perfectly it was clear who had originated the thought. "Victoria is my chosen Luna now. She understands pack politics and brings valuable connections."

"And what about me?" My voice trembled despite my efforts to appear strong. "What happens to your actual mate?"

His eyes hardened. "You'll remain my mate in name only. For appearances with the Western Packs. You'll move out of the pack house immediately, but you'll attend functions when required."

"And if I refuse?"

A cold smile spread across his face. "Then you'll be marked as a rogue. No pack, no protection, no future. Your choice, Sophia."

I stumbled out of his office in a daze, mechanically gathering my garbage bags. Somehow I made it to my car in the pack house parking lot, throwing the bags in the trunk. Night had fallen by the time I finished moving my belongings to the small apartment I'd kept in town for my work at the local bookstore.

Exhausted, I returned to my car for the last load, only to stop short at the sight before me. Both front tires were slashed, the rubber hanging in ribbons. Across the driver's door, someone had spray-painted in dripping red letters: "TEMPORARY LUNA."

I sent a desperate mind-link to Ethan: *Someone vandalized my car in the pack parking lot.*

His reply came immediately, indifferent and cold: *Omegas endure worse every day. Get used to it.*

As I stood there in the darkness, my wolf howled in anguish within me. For the first time, I allowed myself to acknowledge a terrible truth: my mate wasn't just rejecting me—he was orchestrating my destruction.

The morning sun filtered through my apartment window, but its warmth couldn't touch the ice that had settled in my chest. I'd barely slept, my wolf restless and whimpering for a mate who'd made it clear we were nothing more than an inconvenience to be managed.

I forced myself out of bed and drove to my private study in town—a small office space above the bookstore where I worked. It was my sanctuary, filled with research materials and rare texts I'd collected over the years. The one place that was entirely mine.

Or it had been.

The door hung off its hinges, splintered wood scattered across the threshold. My heart hammered as I stepped inside, glass crunching beneath my shoes. Every window had been shattered, jagged edges catching the morning light like teeth. My desk lay overturned, papers strewn across the floor like fallen leaves. Books—some centuries old and irreplaceable—had been torn apart, their pages used as kindling for a small fire that had scorched the hardwood floor.

But it was the wall that made my knees buckle.

In dripping red paint, someone had written: "FAKE LUNA. REAL OMEGA."

My hands shook as I pulled out my phone, dialing the pack security office. The line rang once, twice, three times before someone picked up.

"Pack security," a bored voice answered.

"This is Sophia Bennett. My study has been vandalized. I need—"

"Sorry, Luna." The emphasis on my title dripped with mockery. "We only respond to calls from actual pack members. Maybe try the human police?"

The line went dead.

I spent hours trying to salvage what I could, my wolf growing more agitated with each destroyed book I found. By the time I left, the sun was setting, painting the alley behind the building in shades of orange and shadow.

I should have been more careful. Should have listened to my wolf's sudden alertness.

Leo materialized from the shadows like a nightmare made flesh. The Delta wolf was massive even in human form, his scarred face twisted in a cruel smile. Before I could react, his hand wrapped around my throat, slamming me against the brick wall hard enough to see stars.

"Hello, fake Luna," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "Alpha sends his regards."

His free hand grabbed my wrist, twisting until I cried out. "You know what he told me? Said you needed to learn your place. Said you've forgotten what happens to wolves who don't know when to submit."

Something inside me snapped.

Not broke—snapped into place, like a key finally finding its lock.

My wolf surged forward with a force I'd never felt before, and for the first time in my life, I didn't fight it. The shift happened so fast Leo didn't have time to react. Bones cracked and reformed, silver fur erupting across my skin as my human form dissolved.

His eyes widened in shock. "What the—"

My claws raked across his chest, sending him flying across the alley. He hit the opposite wall with a satisfying crunch, blood blooming across his shirt. I stalked forward, my wolf form larger than any regular she-wolf should be, silver fur gleaming in the dying light.

Leo scrambled backward, fear replacing his earlier confidence. "You're not supposed to be able to—Alpha said you were weak—"

I lunged, pinning him to the ground, my fangs inches from his throat. When I spoke through our mind-link, my voice resonated with power I'd kept hidden for years.

*Tell Ethan his message has been received. And if he sends another wolf after me, they won't walk away.*

I left him there, bleeding and whimpering, as I shifted back and walked home on shaking legs.

The summons came three days later, delivered by Marcus himself. The Beta's face was carefully neutral as he handed me the formal parchment.

"The rejection ceremony," he said quietly. "Tomorrow at dawn. Don't be late."

I stood in the ceremonial circle as the first rays of sunlight broke the horizon. Twenty pack witnesses formed a ring around us, their faces a mix of curiosity and pity. Ethan stood at the center, Victoria beside him despite having no official role in the proceedings.

He pulled out an ornate scroll, his voice carrying across the silent gathering. "I, Ethan Lewis, Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, formally dissolve the mate bond with Sophia Bennett..."

The words washed over me, each syllable carefully pronounced. But something was wrong. The bond between us—that invisible thread that connected our souls—didn't snap. It didn't even tremble.

As he finished reading, our eyes met, and I saw the cold satisfaction in his gaze.

The ceremony was fake. Every word, every gesture—all for show.

I was still trapped, still bound to a mate who wanted me gone but wouldn't let me go.

And judging by the smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, that was exactly what he'd planned.