- Aria

Walking side by side, Luca and I moved through the glossy hospital corridor that smelled strongly of antiseptic and lemon floor cleaner.

He walked confidently like he owned the place. I walked like I'd slept three hours, cried in my bathroom, and had two toddlers drooling on my shoulder before dawn.

Basically, that was exactly how my sleepless nights went.

"He should be awake by now," Luca murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. "Doctors said he had a stable night."

I nodded, biting my lip. "Good. I. I need to talk to him."

Luca frowned a little. "About what?"

"About nothing you need to worry about," I muttered.

He shot me a look. "Aria."

I shrugged and stared straight ahead. "Let's just go inside."

But just as Luca reached for the door handle, I heard a sudden, sharp clicking sound of heels behind us.

I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"I'm so sorry I'm late! Traffic was awful," Ivy Castemont announced dramatically.

Everyone in the hallway seemed to lift their heads a little, as if the queen of the pack had finally arrived. Ivy wore a cream dress of obvious high quality and cost, her dark hair bouncing in perfect curls, one hand holding a designer clutch that probably cost more than my monthly budget.

Luca stiffened. "Ivy."

She gave him a sweet smile that was startlingly bright for a hospital environment. "Luca. I came as soon as I heard. How is he? Is he awake? Can I go in?"

Before Luca could answer, his mother stepped out from around the corner. Her eyes lit up when she saw Ivy.

"Ivy, darling! Thank the Moon you came," Helena said warmly, pulling Ivy into a soft embrace.

Of course. That greeting was practically velvet-wrapped compared to the cold nod I usually got.

"Of course, Helena," Ivy said sweetly, bowing her head politely. "I came as soon as I heard. Magnus means so much to me."

Helena cupped Ivy's cheek like she was her long-lost daughter. "Magnus would be so happy to know you're here."

I stood there awkwardly, invisible in plain sight, holding my hands together like some underpaid assistant instead of the actual Luna.

Helena gave Ivy a warm peck on the cheek. Then she turned her eyes on me and gave a tight nod that lasted. maybe half a second.

"Aria."

Right. That was my welcome.

"Hello, Ivy," I said, forcing a smile.

But she'd already turned back to Helena.

A fast glance. Barely a second. Almost like shaking hands with someone she didn't want to touch.

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Magnus would love to see you," Helena said dismissively.

I blinked, trying not to grit my teeth. "We were about to go in."

Helena looked at me like she was trying to figure out why I had a speaking role. "Yes, yes, of course. But Ivy should go first."

Ivy stepped forward with a soft, pitying smile. "It's fine, Aria. I'm sure you'll get your turn."

Luca's jaw tightened. "Everyone goes in together, Mother."

Helena frowned. "Luca, there's no need for that. Let Ivy say hello first. She's practically family."

I opened my mouth, then shut it. No point. It was the same old reminder that I was the Luna on paper, but Ivy was the Luna of their dreams.

Her perfume hit my nose as she passed, a scent that felt like an insult.

Her husband, Rowan Crestfall, appeared behind her, a tall figure with a calm, cold expression. He nodded politely at Luca, then gave me a brief, stoic look before following Ivy inside.

Luca hesitated, then looked at me. "Let's go too."

We stepped inside the dim hospital room. Machines beeped quietly. Old Alpha Magnus lay on the bed, pale but breathing steadily. Ivy was already at his side, holding the old man's hand like the cameras were rolling.

"Old Alpha Magnus," she whispered dramatically. "I'm here."

His eyelids fluttered. "Ivy. child."

He looked tired. But when he turned his head slightly, his eyes drifted to me just for a moment and they softened, only for me.

"You. came," he murmured.

I stepped closer. "Of course I did."

Ivy's lips tightened.

Luca stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed, clearly feeling anxious. "Grandfather, how are you feeling?"

Magnus coughed weakly. "Old and annoyed. Everyone keeps telling me to rest. It's boring."

Luca huffed a small laugh. "You scared all of us."

"Hah. The Stormbourne line is hard to kill."

Magnus's eyes drifted past Luca. "Rowan."

Rowan bowed his head respectfully. "Old Alpha."

"And Ivy." Magnus gave another cough. "You two. should consider having a child soon."

Ivy gasped slightly, then smiled like she'd just won a prize. "We've been thinking about it."

My stomach twisted. Luca stiffened.

Wow. So the family wanted Ivy to have the child everyone expected me to give them two years ago? The hypocrisy was insane.

Magnus then turned to Luca, his voice was a slightly louder as he spoke. "You. Take care of your family."

Luca blinked. "I am."

"Not well enough," Magnus rasped. "Your mate. your children. don't make the same mistakes I did. Don't take them for granted."

Luca's eyes flicked to me briefly with a blank expression.

But the moment lasted only seconds before Ivy leaned closer to Magnus with a soft, innocent smile. "He tries his best, Old Alpha. You know Luca. he's always been responsible."

Magnus gave her a look that was half amusement, half disbelief. "Girl, your flattery is too sweet. Makes my teeth hurt."

I snorted before I could stop myself.

Ivy glared at me.

After a few more minutes, the nurse came in and told us Magnus needed to rest.

Everyone filed out.

Luca walked beside me silently, Rowan following Ivy, who practically floated down the hall as she owned it.

And just when we reached the waiting lounge, she turned to me.

"Aria," Ivy called, tilting her head with faux concern.

I stopped. "Yes?"

She eyed me up and down slowly. "You look. tired."

I smiled back. "Oh, thanks for your concern. Is that supposed to be a compliment?

Her jaw twitched.

"I'm serious," she said. "You're pale, your eyes are puffy, and your dress looks like you pulled it from the back of a laundry basket. You should really take better care of yourself. Especially since you're supposed to be Luna."

"I'm here because my mate's grandfather collapsed," I said coolly. "Not auditioning for a beauty pageant."

Ivy smiled sweetly. "Well, maybe you should. Because if you want to keep Luca interested, you might actually have to try. Men like him get bored easily."

Luca stiffened. "Ivy-"

But I cut him off.

"No, let her talk," I said, stepping closer to Ivy with a smile that wasn't even trying to be nice. "It's funny hearing advice from someone who couldn't even keep her own husband entertained."

Rowan's brow twitched just slightly.

Ivy flushed. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," I said. "But don't worry. Not everyone is built for loyalty."

"Aria," Luca muttered, like he was scolding her but secretly admiring her.

Ivy glared at me so hard it could've cracked the floor.

"You really should learn how to please Luca," she hissed quietly. "You know he has needs you apparently can't meet."

I took a step closer, our faces inches apart. "Funny. Because it seems like you've been trying to please him for years, and he still didn't choose you."

Her breath hitched.

Rowan looked between us, deadpan as ever, but I didn't miss the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. He was amused.

I leaned back slightly. "Maybe your problem isn't me, Ivy. Maybe it's that Luca never wanted you as much as he wanted the idea of you."

Her face went red.

Luca cleared his throat. "That's enough."

But the smirk on his lips said he didn't mind the show.

I turned away, ready to walk off because this conversation was beneath me and frankly, I had better things to worry about, like my twins adapting to the nanny or my emotional whiplash from the night before.

But Ivy wasn't done.

"You think you've won?" she called out sharply.

I turned back. "I don't care about winning. I care about surviving."

Ivy rolled her eyes. "You're such a-"

Rowan suddenly stepped forward and spoke calmly but firmly. "Ivy. Enough."

Ivy whipped her head toward him. "She started it!"

"Let's go," Rowan said, his voice making it clear there was no discussion.

Ivy snarled under her breath but stomped toward the exit, her heels clicking like tiny thunderclaps.

When they disappeared around the corner, the hallway finally felt breathable again.

I exhaled slowly.

Luca stared at me with a blank expression. "You didn't have to say all of that."

"Someone needed to," I muttered.

"Aria-"

"Not now," I said, walking past him. "I'm going home. The twins need me."

He reached out, catching my wrist gently. "Aria. thank you. For being there today."

I looked down at his hand holding mine.

For two years, he rarely reached for me. And now suddenly he was touching me like we were something real.

"We'll talk later," I said, pulling my hand free.

Because if I stood there any longer, I might break in ways I wouldn't recover from.

And I was done breaking.

*****

- Aria

Nova called me the moment Luca and I left the hospital parking lot.

My phone buzzed nonstop in my pocket until I finally fished it out, still feeling the sting of everything that happened inside the hospital. Ivy's fake sweetness. Helena's side-eye. Magnus's shaky voice telling Luca to "take responsibility for your family."

Yeah. Fun day.

I answered. "Nova, I swear, if this is about you wanting to burn someone's car again-"

"It's not burning," she interrupted. "It's gentle warming with aggressive intentions."

I snorted. "Same thing."

"So," she dragged out the word dramatically, "are you alive? Or do I have to go to StormRidge hospital and claw someone's eyes out?"

"I'm alive. Barely."

"Want dinner? I already put on pants not meant for sleep, so you better say yes."

I exhaled, honestly relieved just hearing her voice. "Fine. Yes. Dinner. Please save me."

"Drop me your location. I'll pick you up so we can talk trash in person."

"Done."

I hung up, feeling lighter for the first time that day.

Luca glanced over from the driver's seat. "Who was that?"

"Nova," I said. "We're meeting up."

He frowned. "Tonight?"

"Yes, tonight. It's dinner, not a secret rebellion."

He didn't reply, but the muscle in his jaw twitched.

When we reached the pack house, he didn't bother saying goodbye. He just stalked upstairs to his office, his shoulder tense, probably thinking hard about. well, hopefully not Ivy.

I didn't linger either. I grabbed my bag, checked on the twins, and headed out with Nova.

Nova and I ended up at a noisy restaurant downtown, one of those places where the waiters yell and the tables wobble.

Perfect chaos for venting.

"Okay," she said, leaning forward dramatically as she stuffed a fry into her mouth. "Tell me everything. Start with how Helena looked at you. Did she do the squinty face? The annoyed face? Or the 'oh no, the Luna is breathing again' face?"

"All three," I groaned.

"Ugh. She needs a new hobby. Crochet, pottery, or baking, instead of hating you."

"She also acted like Ivy was her long-lost daughter."

"Of course she did," Nova rolled her eyes. "If Ivy told her the sky was purple, Helena would paint the house to match."

I laughed weakly and dipped a fry in ketchup. "And Ivy insulted me again."

"What did she say this time? That your hair was too brown for Luca's aesthetic?"

"She said I looked tired and should learn how to please my husband."

Nova slammed both palms on the table so hard everyone turned toward us.

"Say that again," she demanded. "I dare you."

I snickered. "No."

"Oh, Aria, you're killing me. I need another drink."

As Nova ordered something suspicious and pink, I leaned back, letting the warmth of the restaurant wash over me. For once, I didn't feel like the Luna who wasn't wanted. I was just Aria, eating fries with my best friend.

For a moment, I let myself enjoy it.

I couldn't help but smile widely, maybe even from ear to ear.

Later that night, Nova dropped me off at the pack house. I hugged her and promised to text when I was inside.

The house was quiet.

I slipped inside and closed the door softly behind me.

I didn't expect it, but Luca was in the living room, looking impatient with his arms crossed, like he'd been waiting forever.

His eyes dragged over me, lingering too long.

For a moment, something in his expression softened.

"Did you eat?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good."

An awkward silence stretched between us.

Then he spoke again, his voice rougher than usual.

"Ivy called me."

Of course she did.

"And?" I asked.

"She knew you want to sever the bond."

I met his eyes steadily. "I do."

He inhaled sharply, like the words actually hit him.

"We're not done talking about this."

I turned away. "No, Luca. We're not done. But not tonight."

I headed upstairs before he could say anything else.

My heart beat like crazy and my head swam.

And deep inside.

Silver stirred, whispering something I wasn't ready to hear.

*****

- Luca

I walked into my office still simmering from the mess at the hospital. I couldn't even decide what pissed me off more-how Ivy latched onto my arm like she had a claim, or how Aria stood there looking fragile and fierce at the same time, like she was daring anyone to break her again.

I dropped into my chair and pulled up the pack finance reports, not that I was actually reading a damn thing.

That's when I saw it.

A digital receipt.

Aria Kingsley Stormbourne. Table for two. Downtown restaurant. Total: $87.

I blinked. "What the hell?" My eyes narrowed at the screen.

With who?

It wasn't late yet. But Aria almost never went anywhere. She barely left the pack house unless she had no choice. And tonight of all nights?

Why?

I rubbed the back of my neck because I was starting to get seriously annoyed. I didn't like this feeling. I didn't even want to name it.

Before I could overthink it, my phone rang.

Ivy.

I nearly ignored it.

I answered anyway. "What is it?"

"Luca," she breathed, all soft and helpless, like she wanted me to swoop in and comfort her. "Are you home?"

"Yes."

"I just. wanted to check on you. Magnus looked so weak today. I thought you might be stressed."

"I'm fine," I said.

"And Aria?" Ivy pushed sweetly. "Is she home to take care of the babies?"

My jaw flexed. "She's out. With a friend."

"A friend?" She acted shocked, like Aria wasn't allowed to have a life outside the nursery. "But the twins need their mother."

"They're with the nanny," I said. "They're fine."

"But still-"

"Ivy," I cut in, my patience snapping, "she's allowed to go out."

There was a long pause. I could practically hear her recalculating her approach.

"You're defending her now?"

"This isn't about defending anyone," I said. "She didn't do anything wrong."

"Oh." She was still talking sweetly, but it was clearly fake and ready to bite. "Helena said Aria is asking you to sever the bond. Is that true?"

I gritted my teeth. "We're not talking about this."

"Luca-"

"Ivy," I snapped, "go be with your husband."

The room fell into silence.

"Good night," I added, and hung up without waiting for whatever nice-sounding complaint she planned to spit out next.

I tossed the phone onto my desk and leaned back, exhaling hard.

What the hell was happening to me?

*************

- Luca

I walked into the house past midnight, still wired from the pack meeting that refused to end. My head was fizzing with stress from territory disputes, budget headaches, and warriors complaining about training schedules.

All of it piled on top of each other until it was enough to make me crazy.

But under all that noise?

Aria.

Earlier at dinner, she was totally silent. She kept dodging my eyes when I tried to talk. She was moving around the house like I had the plague.

I told myself I wasn't thinking about her. But I was.

All damn night!

And it irritated me more than the stupid meeting did.

Now I wanted quiet.

Instead, my steps froze the moment I walked into the study corner.

The small desk lamp was still on.

We shared this desk once. It used to be hers-before the kids, before everything went sideways and salty. She did her sketches here, her late-night readings, her quiet little hobbies I ignored because I was too busy being a duty-obsessed Alpha.

The desk looked like someone was packing up their life piece by piece.

Her laptop sat open.

I walked over and was about to shut it off when my eyes caught on the screen.

Some tabs. A dozen job applications.

Different packs. Different cities. Seamstress work. Designer apprenticeships. Freelance tailoring.

I didn't even notice until my hand landed on the table. I saw her resume. Her skill list. Her portfolio of designs-clothes she never showed me, never bragged about, never once tried to make me notice.

My stomach dropped.

This wasn't a threat; she was dead serious about leaving.

She had been quietly building a world outside of mine, just for herself and our children.

A nasty knot twisted in my gut. Was it jealousy, guilt, or panic? All I knew was I hated the feeling.

Furious, I slammed the laptop shut.

I stood frozen there for a long moment. Then I walked upstairs, moving too quietly.

I pushed open the bedroom door. It was empty.

The bed was made. Her nightgown was gone from the hook on the door. The bathroom was dark.

A slow, simmering anger built in my chest.

Where the hell was she?

It was nearly one in the morning. The twins were asleep. The nanny had gone home hours ago.

I checked my phone. No messages.

I scanned my contacts. Then I did something I never do, tapping Find My Mate.

A green dot pulsed on the map.

And my blood ran hot.

My chest tightened.

That's when I heard her laugh.

I heard a soft, clear, happy laugh from the balcony.

I froze.

Aria. laughing? At this hour?

I walked toward the balcony, slower this time, quiet enough that I heard her through the half-open door.

"Hey, stop," she giggled cheerfully in a way I hadn't heard in years. "If I mess up the interview, you'd better pretend you don't know me."

Her laughter faded into a playful groan. "Don't tease me. I finally told him about the divorce. And guess what? He didn't freak out. Maybe the Moon Goddess took pity on me."

My jaw clenched hard.

She talked like it was already finalized, without even telling me first. Like I was history, a finished chapter she was neatly closing up.

That unwelcome, stabbing pain hit my chest hard.

I pushed the door open.

Aria looked up, briefly startled, but the shock quickly vanished. Her bright joy disappeared, replaced by a storm cloud the moment our eyes met.

"Hey, I'll call you back," she said quickly, and ended the call.

The room suddenly felt too quiet.

I leaned against the doorframe. "What are you doing?"

"Talking to my friend."

"Who was it? Tell me now," I demanded.

"Why do you care?"

"Tell me. Or I'll find out myself."

"Not that it's any of your business," she shot back.

Because someone else got her warm laughter, and I couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed like that.

But I wasn't about to say all that.

"You've never laughed like that with me," I said instead.

"Maybe because you never gave me space to."

Blood roared in my ears.

My anger flared. "I told you, Aria. We're not done."

"Oh, really? Because you seemed pretty done when you left me alone in our room last night." She crossed her arms, defiantly.

I couldn't stop myself from stepping closer, my gaze fixed on the screen of her phone. "You told everyone that we're getting a divorce?"

She hesitated, then her chin lifted. "Yes."

A fresh surge of rage boiled in me. "You don't get to make that decision alone."

"Watch me," she said. "The paperwork is already in process."

I took a heavy step forward, moving into her space until I could feel the warmth coming off her skin. She backed up instinctively, sucking in a sharp breath.

My patience snapped. I grabbed her wrist, not to hurt her, but to keep her from running.

"You think you can just walk away?" I asked, my voice dangerously low.

She tried to pull away.

"I think I can," she whispered, standing her ground, even though I could see a faint tremor in her hands. "And I think I will."

"And what were you doing with your laptop?"

She hesitated. "Working."

"There were many job applications."

Her jaw twitched. "Yes."

"You're actually doing it," I said before I could stop myself. My grip tightened just enough to make a point. "You're seriously planning to leave."

Her breath caught. For a moment, I thought she was about to shove me away or snap back. But she didn't. She went still, looked right at me, and in that split second, there was something in her eyes that I hadn't seen in years.

Fear.

And I hated it.

I hated that I was the reason she looked so worn down. I hated whoever was on that phone, making her smile like they owned a part of her. And I hated myself for not noticing how much she was hurting until it was almost too late.

I decided to let her go.

*****