The full moon hung heavy in the sky, its silver light bathing our territory in an ethereal glow as we ran. My paws barely touched the forest floor, my pregnant body still agile despite the tiny lives growing within me. Eight weeks along with twins—our future, Michael's legacy. The thought should have filled me with joy, but instead, a familiar unease crept through our mate bond.

I glanced at Michael—my Alpha, my mate, my everything—his massive black wolf form leading our pack with the commanding presence that had first drawn me to him eight years ago. His muscles rippled beneath his midnight coat as he darted between the trees, the epitome of power and grace.

Then I felt it again—that slight tremor in our mind-link, like a pebble disturbing still water.

*"It's okay, Aria. Stay close to the center of the formation. You're safe."*

Michael's voice wasn't directed at me, yet I heard it clearly through our bond. The gentleness in his tone made my heart clench. That softness used to be reserved for me alone.

I pushed harder, my paws digging into the earth as I caught up to him. *"Michael?"* I reached through our bond, trying to recapture his attention.

His golden Alpha eyes flicked toward me briefly before returning to scan the territory. *"Focus on the run, Rebecca."* His tone was clipped, professional. Not the voice of a mate, but of an Alpha to his Luna.

I fell back slightly, my chest tight with a pain that had nothing to do with my pregnancy. Through our bond, I could sense her—Aria—the refugee we'd welcomed into our pack six months ago. I could feel Michael's awareness of her, his wolf's protective instincts flaring whenever she lagged behind.

When we returned to the pack house, I shifted quickly, wrapping myself in the silk robe one of the pack members held out for me. Michael was already in human form, his powerful frame commanding attention as he issued orders to strengthen our western border.

I placed a protective hand over my still-flat stomach. "The healer said I shouldn't shift too frequently during the first trimester," I said quietly when he approached.

Michael's jaw tightened. "The Luna needs to show strength to the pack. You're carrying future Alphas, not fragile humans."

I swallowed the hurt. This wasn't my Michael speaking—this cold, dismissive man was someone I barely recognized.

---

The pack council breakfast was always a formal affair, with Michael at the head of the long oak table and me seated at his right. Today, like every day for the past few months, Aria sat three seats down, her doe-like eyes downcast in a performance of submission that fooled everyone but me.

As Elder Grayson discussed the upcoming full moon ceremony, I felt Michael's attention drift. His fingers tapped restlessly against the polished wood, his mind elsewhere.

Then I heard it through our bond—Aria's whispered plea. *"Alpha, I'm scared about the territory expansion. Could I... could I stay behind during the next run?"*

I stiffened, my fork clattering against my plate. Michael shouldn't be able to hear her thoughts directly. Unless...

Michael's response came with a softened Alpha tone that made my wolf whimper in confusion. *"Of course, little one. You can help the pup-sitters instead."*

"Michael," I said aloud, my voice cutting through the council's discussion. "May I remind you that pack matters should be discussed openly at this table?"

The room fell silent. Michael's eyes met mine, cold and hard as granite.

"Council dismissed," he growled, his Alpha tone vibrating through the room. The elders scrambled to their feet, bowing respectfully before filing out. Only Aria lingered, her gaze flicking between us before she too slipped away.

"You embarrass me in front of the council?" Michael's voice was dangerously low.

"You're having private conversations with her through our mate bond," I countered, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Our sacred bond, Michael."

He stood abruptly. "She's vulnerable. She needs guidance."

"And I need my mate," I whispered.

He looked at me as if I were a stranger, then turned and walked away.

---

The dizziness hit me without warning. One moment I was walking past the healer's den, the next the world tilted sharply. I reached for the wall, but my fingers found only air as I collapsed.

"Luna Rebecca!" Elara, our pack healer, rushed to my side. "Someone get the Alpha!"

I clutched at my stomach, terror clawing through me. "The babies," I gasped. "Please, my babies..."

I reached desperately through our mate bond. *"Michael! I need you!"*

I felt his momentary alarm, then—nothing. A cold, empty void where our connection should be. He had severed our mind-link.

Through the window of the healer's den, I saw him across the compound, his arms around a trembling Aria, his face a mask of concern as he led her away.

Elara's gentle hands helped me onto a bed, her voice soothing as she checked my vitals. But I barely heard her. All I could feel was the hollow space where my mate should be.

That night, alone in our bedroom—our bed cold on his side—I opened the jar of paper stars Michael had folded for me during our courtship. One thousand stars, he'd said. One thousand promises of forever.

With trembling fingers, I removed the first star and crushed it in my palm.

Nine hundred and ninety-nine days left until I would be gone.

The morning sunlight filtering through the curtains did nothing to warm the chill that had settled in my bones. I stared at the ceiling, my hand resting protectively over my stomach where our twins nestled. Eight weeks along, and already I felt the weight of their future pressing down on me.

Michael's side of the bed remained untouched. He hadn't come home last night.

"Luna Rebecca," Elder Grayson's voice crackled through the intercom system. "Alpha Michael requests your presence for the territory run in thirty minutes."

I pressed the response button. "I'm not feeling well this morning. Elara advised against shifting too frequently during—"

"This isn't a request," he interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It's an order from your Alpha."

The territory run. A dangerous patrol along our most contested borders—exactly what Elara had warned me against. I closed my eyes, feeling the second tiny life flutter within me as if sensing my distress.

---

The wind whipped through my fur as we raced along the ridge that marked our eastern boundary. My wolf moved with practiced grace, but I could feel her anxiety mirroring my own. We shouldn't be here. Not with our precious cargo.

Michael's massive black wolf led the formation, his powerful stride setting a punishing pace. Behind him, the pack fanned out in defensive positions—except for Aria, who somehow managed to stay just two wolves behind our Alpha, her slender gray form darting between larger warriors.

As we approached the steepest section of the ridge, my paws slipped on loose shale. For one terrifying moment, I felt myself sliding toward the edge, the hundred-foot drop yawning below me.

*"Luna!"* Elara's panicked voice cut through the pack mind-link. The healer's wolf darted toward me, her eyes wide with alarm. *"She shouldn't be this close to the edge! The pups—"*

*"ENOUGH!"* Michael's Alpha tone thundered through the link, so powerful that several pack members whimpered and lowered their heads. *"The Luna will complete the run like everyone else."*

I regained my footing, heart hammering against my ribs as I pulled myself back from the precipice. Through our fractured bond, I felt nothing from Michael—no concern, no relief. Only impatience.

When I glanced up, I caught Aria watching me, her wolf's eyes gleaming with something that looked suspiciously like satisfaction.

---

That night, I waited until the pack house had fallen silent. My body ached from the run, a dull pain throbbing low in my abdomen where our babies grew. Elara had examined me afterward, her gentle hands probing with professional care while her eyes spoke volumes of unspoken sympathy.

"They're okay for now," she'd whispered. "But Luna, please—be careful."

I slipped from our bedroom—mine alone these days—and padded silently down the hallway to the small alcove where I kept my jar of stars. The moonlight streaming through the window caught the glass, illuminating the colorful paper creations within.

One thousand stars. One thousand promises.

With trembling fingers, I unscrewed the lid and reached inside, extracting the second star. This one was blue—the color of hope, Michael had said when he folded it. I crushed it in my palm, watching as the carefully creased paper crumpled into nothing.

A tear slid down my cheek as I replaced the lid. Nine hundred and ninety-eight days left.

---

"The full moon ceremony honors our ancestors and strengthens our bonds as a pack," Michael announced, his deep voice carrying across the gathering area where the entire Harrison pack had assembled.

I stood beside him, draped in the traditional silver robe of the Luna, the weight of my ancestral moonstone necklace cool against my skin. The pendant had been passed down through generations of Lunas in my family, its pale blue stone said to be blessed by the Moon Goddess herself.

"Tonight, we celebrate the strength of our pack and the future of our bloodline," Michael continued, his hand briefly touching my shoulder in a gesture that once would have been loving but now felt like a performance.

As the ceremony progressed, I noticed Aria hovering near the front of the crowd, her eyes never leaving Michael. When it came time for the ceremonial toast, she somehow maneuvered herself directly into my path.

I saw it happening as if in slow motion—her foot extending just enough to catch mine, her hand reaching out as if to steady me but actually pushing me forward. I stumbled, the precious necklace swinging free from my neck as I fell.

The sound of the moonstone shattering against the stone floor silenced the entire gathering.

"Oh Luna, I'm so sorry!" Aria gasped, her eyes wide with feigned horror. "I was just trying to help you!"

I knelt, fingers trembling as I gathered the shards of my family's legacy. The silver pendant lay broken, fragments of the moonstone scattered like fallen stars.

When I looked up, Michael was staring down at me, his expression not of sympathy, but annoyance.

"Aria was only trying to help," he said coldly. "You should be more careful."

The fragments of moonstone cut into my palm as I closed my fist around them, blood mixing with the ancient stone that had survived generations of Lunas—only to be destroyed in my care.

Just like my mate bond. Just like my heart.

I held the fragments of my family's moonstone in my bleeding palm, each shard cutting deeper than just skin. The silence in the ceremonial clearing was deafening as every pack member watched their Luna kneeling on the ground, gathering pieces of her shattered heritage.

"It was an accident," Aria's voice broke through the silence, a perfect tremor of distress coloring her tone. "I was only trying to steady her."

I looked up to see tears welling in her doe-like eyes, her slender frame trembling as she backed away from me. The performance was flawless—the frightened, innocent refugee retreating from the unstable, aggressive Luna.

"She pushed me," I said quietly, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. "The necklace was deliberately—"

"ENOUGH!" Michael's Alpha tone slammed into me with such force that my wolf whimpered. I watched as his large hand came to rest protectively on Aria's shoulder. "Stop this, Rebecca."

My gaze locked with his, searching for any trace of the mate who once treasured me above all others. I found nothing but cold disdain.

"Alpha," Aria whispered, her voice carrying just enough to ensure everyone heard, "she's been so... different lately. I think the pregnancy is affecting her mind." A single tear slid down her cheek. "I'm scared of her."

The murmurs rippled through the gathered pack. I felt their stares like physical blows—pitying, questioning, judging.

"Luna Rebecca," Michael's voice was dangerously quiet now, formal in a way that made my blood run cold. "You will apologize to Aria. Now."

The command hung in the air between us, a final severing of whatever respect remained in our relationship. My wolf bristled, fighting against the urge to submit.

"Kneel and apologize to her," he repeated, this time with the full weight of his Alpha command behind it.

My body moved against my will, my knees hitting the ground before Aria's feet. The pain was nothing compared to the humiliation burning through me as I felt the eyes of every pack member—warriors who had once respected me, elders who had welcomed me as their Luna, younger wolves who had looked to me for guidance.

"I'm sorry," I forced through clenched teeth, the words tasting like ash.

Aria's lips curved into the faintest smile, visible only to me from my position at her feet. "I forgive you, Luna," she said sweetly. "We all understand you're... not yourself these days."

I remained kneeling as the ceremony dispersed, pack members filing away in uncomfortable silence. Only when the clearing had emptied did Michael finally acknowledge me again.

"Get up," he said flatly. "This behavior ends now."

---

The rejection papers landed on my desk with a finality that should have shattered me. Instead, I felt a strange calm as I stared at the official pack seal embossed at the top of the document.

"I've been patient enough," Michael said, pacing the study like a caged animal. "This isn't working anymore."

Through our fractured bond, I could feel his impatience—he wanted this over with quickly. He wanted to be somewhere else. With someone else.

"You want to reject me while I'm carrying your heirs?" I asked, my voice surprisingly steady.

He barely glanced at me, his attention already drifting toward the door. I could feel Aria's presence somewhere nearby, waiting. Always waiting.

"The pups will be provided for," he said dismissively. "Just sign the papers."

I picked up the document, scanning the formal language that would dissolve eight years of love, five years of being marked mates. The terms were harsh—I would be branded as "weak" and "unworthy" of the Alpha's bond.

"I'll need time to review these," I said.

Michael made an irritated sound. "Fine. Have them back to me tomorrow." He was already moving toward the door, his mind clearly elsewhere.

That night, I contacted my father's pack through our private, encrypted channel. Alpha Jonathan Sullivan's face appeared on my tablet screen, his eyes hardening as I explained the situation.

"He's rejecting you while you carry his pups?" My father's barely contained fury vibrated through the connection. "I'll bring our warriors and—"

"No," I interrupted. "I need legal help, not war."

Three hours later, I had modified the rejection papers. Small changes, subtle alterations to the language that would protect my unborn children's inheritance and status. Changes that would ensure Michael could never take them from me.

The next morning, I placed the revised documents on Michael's desk. He barely glanced at them, signing each page with quick, impatient strokes while Aria hovered in the doorway.

"Are we done?" he asked, already standing.

I nodded, gathering the signed papers. "We're done."

As I walked away, I slipped my hand into my pocket, fingers closing around the third paper star I would remove from the jar tonight.

Nine hundred and ninety-seven days left.