Everyone in the Silver Crescent Pack knew.

Everett Myers, our Alpha, was completely devoted to Maggie Crawford, the young Omega he had mentored over the years. As for me, his Luna and mate, I was merely a facade.

At what should have been the ninth anniversary celebration of our mate bond, the screen intended to show our marking ceremony photos instead displayed moments of Everett's joyful times with Maggie over the years—their first time holding hands, their first kiss...

In the final sequence, Maggie appeared, scantily dressed, her eyes glistening with tears, like a fragile lily swaying in the breeze.

"Alpha, I'm sorry. I can't forget you, and I can't watch you stay with someone you don’t love."

"I've taken something to, you know, make myself need you... If you're not here by midnight..."

The video hadn’t finished playing when Everett, usually so composed, shifted into his wolf form and raced out of the venue like he had lost his mind, just as he had done on previous occasions, leaving me alone in the grand pack hall.

The whispers of the pack members buzzed around me, their pity and judgment palpable. They were all betting on when our tenth ceremony would be. Only I knew there would be no next time.

After seeing off all the guests, I dialed the number.

"Is your offer still valid?"

Receiving an affirmative response, I replied, "In three days."

After hanging up, Maggie's Twitter post popped up on my phone.

"The stars I've wished for over ten years are finally mine."

The photo showed a floor scattered with condoms and shredded clothing, along with a vague glimpse of Everett's sleeping profile.

The comment section was already flooded with 99 responses. The Silver Crescent Pack’s social circle was small; everyone knew what had happened, yet no one mentioned me.

I chuckled and liked the post, casually adding my own '99.'

A moment later, Maggie video-called me. She wore a large white shirt—the one I had specifically chosen for Everett that morning. It hung loosely, with only one button fastened, her skin marked with passion.

She beamed at me.

"Luna, don't be upset. I just love Alpha too much; I can't help it."

Everett’s voice chimed in, scolding yet indulgent, "Don’t be silly, Maggie, and stop bothering Ophelia."

Maggie, feigning innocence, replied, "Alpha, I’m afraid Luna might be angry. She just commented '99' on my Twitter."

Everett frowned, taking the phone. "Maggie is young and doesn’t know any better. Why are you engaging in this nonsense with her?"

Then, turning to Maggie, he added, "Just this once, it won't happen again."

Maggie responded by sticking her tongue out.

I had seen this scene many times, from our first marking ceremony until now. Every time Maggie would stir up trouble, and Everett always took her side, leaving with the promise of "just this once."

Yet, each time, he would make exceptions for her.

I calmly ended the call.

The pack’s Gamma, Garrett Hansen, approached, asking, "Luna, would you like to continue postponing the mate bond celebration?"

I glanced around at the meticulously arranged pack hall. After ten years, I knew every detail by heart. My heart ached for a moment, then I smiled and shook my head, "No need."

Maggie had reached for her stars.

I should find my own stars, too.

By the time I returned to the Silver Crescent Pack’s territory, the sun had already begun its descent. I stood at the entrance of the Alpha’s residence, my fingers hesitating over the keypad. The door code I’d used for years no longer worked. After several failed attempts, the door swung open from within.

Maggie stood there, her lips curled into a coy smile that made my stomach churn. “Luna,” she greeted, her tone laced with mock sweetness. “Uncle Everett changed the door code. He thought it would be best if I stayed here for a few days. The code is today’s special date.” Her voice was light, almost playful, as if she were savoring the moment.

Behind her, I heard Everett’s voice, low and commanding, urging me inside. My gaze swept past her, and I froze. Maggie was sprawled across the Alpha’s bed—our bed—while Julien, the pack’s Healer, meticulously drew blood from her arm. My belongings, once carefully arranged, were now strewn across the living room as if they meant nothing. It was only then that Everett seemed to notice my presence.

“Luna,” he began, his tone firm but tinged with the alpha’s authority that always demanded obedience. “Maggie’s condition hasn’t stabilized yet. Julien suggested we monitor her for three days, so I thought it best she stay here.” His explanation was calm, almost rational, as if this were a perfectly reasonable decision.

I nodded silently, refusing to engage in the argument he clearly expected. Every year after Thanksgiving, it was the same: a heated clash between us over Maggie, followed by days of icy silence until I inevitably gave in. But this time, I felt nothing—no anger, no pain. Just emptiness.

Everett’s voice softened slightly, an attempt to placate me. “Next month, we’ll have a proper marking ceremony, Luna.” Another promise. Everett was a man who prided himself on keeping his word, yet when it came to Maggie, his promises felt hollow, like smoke slipping through my fingers.

For the first time, I rejected him outright. “No.” My voice was firm, surprising even myself.

Everett’s brow furrowed, his alpha aura flickering with irritation. “Maggie’s still young, Luna. Don’t hold it against her.”

I cut him off, meeting his gaze with a steadiness I didn’t know I possessed. “I’m not holding it against her. I just don’t want the ceremony anymore.” The words felt final, like a door slamming shut. There was no point in pretending anymore.

Before Everett could respond, Maggie’s sultry voice drifted from the room, sharp and deliberate. Everett’s head snapped toward the door, his alpha tone cutting through the air. “Julien, didn’t you say Maggie was stable? What’s happening now?”

Julien, looking flustered, replied, “Alpha, the blood tests show no traces of any substances in Ms. Crawford’s system.”

Maggie’s voice rose again, this time accompanied by the sound of fabric rustling. Everett’s face darkened, and he quickly shut the door behind him, leaving me standing alone in the living room. Moments later, the unmistakable sounds of their interaction echoed through the walls.

I sank onto the couch, my body heavy with exhaustion. The night dragged on, the noises from the room a relentless reminder of my irrelevance. My mind wandered, the bond between Everett and me—once so strong—now felt like a frayed thread, ready to snap. My wolf stirred within me, a quiet whisper of pain and resignation, but even she had no words for this.

When dawn finally broke, I drifted into a fitful sleep, my heart numb, my spirit broken. The ache that had always lingered in my chest was gone, replaced by a hollow emptiness that felt strangely freeing.