At the Thorn Pack banquet, Jacob Mason carefully cut the steak on my plate. His gentlemanly demeanor and meticulous attention to detail drew envious glances from those around us.

"Our Alpha is so good to our Luna," a voice murmured from across the table. "You won’t find a more devoted mate in all of Southspire."

I glanced at Jacob, a sweet warmth unfurled in my chest. I silently tightened my grip around the Moonstone Ring—a ring my father had left me, the symbol of power in the Lotus Pack. I had planned to give it to Jacob when the banquet ended, when we were alone.

But as the evening wore on, the noise and the clinking of glasses became too much to bear. I feigned a slight dizziness, excusing myself to return to our castle ahead of him. In truth, I needed the time to prepare a surprise—something special to commemorate this night.

When everything was set, I silently slipped back into the banquet hall, ready to take Jacob by the hand and whisk him away. But as I arrived, I stopped dead in my tracks. There he was, holding Hazel Rhea tightly in his arms.

"Chloe is so rigid," he said. "Always clinging to the dignity of being the Lotus Pack Alpha's daughter. How could she ever compare to Hazel's passion?"

"Don't worry," he added, his tone light with mock reassurance. "Hazel and I are just friends. Chloe won't feel betrayed."

He laughed softly. "But don't tell her, alright? She's so old-fashioned—if she found out, she'd leave me for sure. Honestly, the thought of spending the rest of my life with such a dull partner… It's exhausting."

Just friends? Is that what he called the way his hand slid beneath her dress—being "just friends"?

I didn't interrupt them. There was no need to disturb their lively conversation.

Instead, I slid the Moonstone Ring onto my finger. Without a word, I turned and left. In the quiet of the night, Xavier Grey—who had been following me all along—waited.

Together, we set off on the journey I should have taken long ago.

As Thorn Pack's Luna, I was once the envy of countless werewolves. My love story with the handsome and powerful Alpha was considered a legend across Southspire.

But tonight, Jacob was nothing like the gentle, respectful man he used to be. He said I was rigid, lacking passion—like an ornamental figure collecting dust in the corner.

What shocked me more was his hand—the same hand that once traced my face with such tenderness—now slipping beneath Hazel's dress.

Hazel Rhea. The newly arrived Omega, young and full of restless energy. Her gaze brimmed with playful provocation. It was clear she knew exactly how to ignite his desire.

Yet, despite witnessing it with my own eyes, I felt nothing—no sharp ache, no burning sense of betrayal. The unique bond that should connect us as mates felt distant, as though it had quietly unraveled without me noticing.

Later that night, Jacob staggered back to the castle, reeking of alcohol, his friends propping him up on either side.

"Chloe, why are you still awake?" His voice was thick, edged with a forced warmth as he pulled me into his arms, laughing along with their jeers. He was worried the chill from outside might make me cold.

But it wasn't the cold that unsettled me. It was the overwhelming scent of perfume clinging to him—a sharp, cloying sweetness that didn't belong to me.

I pushed him away. He wasn't expecting it, and he stumbled to the floor.

"This smell," I said quietly, "is disgusting."

For a moment, panic flickered across his face before he smoothed it over with feigned calm.

"Oh, that? It's from the servants' new batch of liquor," he said lightly. "They love mixing flower petals into everything. Some must have spilled on me by accident."

Once, I would have believed him. If I hadn't overheard what he said about me tonight.

"The wine tonight was my own brew," I said, my voice steady. "Bloodwine. There were no flower petals."

Declan McGraw, one of his most loyal men, reacted first. Without hesitation, he grabbed his mate, Mindy Marrock, and slapped her across the face.

"It's your fault!" he barked. "Pushing your homemade flower wine on the Alpha—look what you've done now!"

Then, turning to me with a forced smile, he added, "I'm sorry, Luna. My mate insisted on offering her brew tonight. But the Alpha—he only drinks the wine you make. He was afraid you'd be upset."

The others quickly joined in, eager to smooth things over.

"Yes, Luna, the Alpha was worried you'd misunderstand."

"You'll never find a man more devoted to his mate," another chimed in.

Jacob, always quick to follow their lead, sighed and said, "Everything I have has always been under your Luna's care. From now on, no one is to touch my things without her permission."

They all held their breath, waiting for me to offer a smile, to forgive and forget, to play the gracious and understanding Luna.

But I didn't.

I lifted a finger and pointed at the faint smudge on his neck.

"Then tell me—whose lip print is this?"

Jacob instinctively covered his neck. After a moment of silence, he wiped the stain away roughly.

"Lip print? It's just red wine. You're imagining things," he said.

Then his tone sharpened. "Chloe, are you accusing me of cheating? As my mate, shouldn't you be the first to know if I was unfaithful?" He feigned anger, spun on his heel, and left without another word.

He had a point. If Jacob had really betrayed me, I should have felt it. That's how the mate bond works.

Maybe he hadn't been unfaithful after all.

I knew how things worked in the Thorn Pack. Many powerful men kept multiple partners, caring little for the physical and emotional pain they inflicted on their mates who were marked under the Moon Goddess's witness. Their pleasure came first—everything else was an afterthought.

But Jacob was different. As the Alpha of the Thorn Pack, he'd always remained loyal to me. Or at least, I had thought so.

Yet, when I recalled what he had said at the banquet, disappointment crept over me. Maybe he had been too perfect before—so much so that I couldn't bear the way he mocked me behind my back.

As I wavered, unsure of where our relationship stood, a soft voice echoed in my mind through the mind-link.

"Luna, I heard you've been having headaches at night lately," Mindy said hesitantly.

I had once saved Mindy—an omega—from Declan's cruelty. Since then, she always looked at me with eyes full of gratitude.

She paused before adding, "Perhaps you could visit the shaman on the southern edge of the territory. They have many unusual potions there."

Her words lingered in my mind. Was she implying there was something strange about that place?

The next day, disguised as a man and using a voice-altering device, I made my way to the shaman's shop.

"Welcome," the shaman said. "I have all kinds of potions. Whatever you need."

Rows of glass bottles lined the shelves, each filled with strange, shimmering liquids in shades that defied nature. The air was thick with unfamiliar scents. I hesitated, uncertain how to ask the question burning at the back of my mind.

Why had Mindy sent me here?

A sudden thought struck me. Without overthinking, I asked, "Do you have anything that can prevent a mate from sensing infidelity?"

The shaman's eyes narrowed as he studied me. "Why do you want something like that?" he asked cautiously. "Of course, I have it—but it comes with severe side effects."

"What kind of side effects?"

"If you deceive the sacred mate bond and try to hide your betrayal, the pain you endure will be ten times worse than your mate's suffering." He let out a dry laugh. "Most Thorn Pack men don't bother with it. They don't care about the pain they cause their partners."

He gestured toward a dusty, half-forgotten bottle on a back shelf. "Honestly, no one buys it. If not for Declan stopping by so often lately for it, I would have stopped making it altogether."

The rest of his rambling faded into the background. My thoughts spun as I left the shop, my steps unsteady.

So, such a potion really did exist.

No wonder I couldn't sense any betrayal from Jacob.

As I walked, Jacob's voice cut into my mind through the mind-link. "Chloe, why aren't you home yet? I'm sorry about last night. I messed everything up. But please, believe me. I could never betray you."

"I swore an oath before the Moon Goddess," he continued. "If I ever betray you, may I suffer the pain of a thousand silver needles piercing my heart."

Once, when he spoke vows like that, I would cover his mouth playfully and tell him not to say such foolish things.

But now?

Now, I wanted to see if he would dare to die for me.

Now was not the time to burn bridges. My father and brothers had died fighting the Rogues, leaving my uncle to seize power and become the Alpha of my homeland, the Lotus Pack. Reclaiming what was once mine would not be easy.

In the dead of night, I contacted my maid and instructed her to reach out to the Alpha King of Southspire, Ansel Grey. He had been a close friend of my father's for many years. If anyone would understand my intentions, it was him.

Lately, I had been spending less time with Jacob, preoccupied with making secret arrangements for my departure. He must have feared I was holding a grudge over our last confrontation, as he had invited me to his council chamber several times.

I remembered that my father's spear still lay there, so I finally accepted his latest invitation.

I hadn't informed him in advance, so when I arrived, Jacob appeared startled.

"You—why are you here?" he stammered, his voice unusually tense.

I raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you invite me? Or am I not welcome?"

"N-No, it's just—I wasn't expecting you." He stood hastily, smoothing the crumpled hem of his robe, his movements stiff and awkward.

A faint noise drifted up from beneath his desk. I narrowed my eyes and stepped closer.

To my disbelief, Hazel emerged from under the table, brushing dust from her sleeves.

A surge of heat rushed to my head. "What—what were you two doing?"

"She was just picking something up for me," Jacob blurted out.

"That's right," Hazel echoed softly, her delicate frame trembling as she adjusted her disheveled clothes. "I was only helping Alpha Jacob retrieve something."

"Do I look like a fool to you?" My voice trembled with barely contained fury.

But Jacob barely seemed to register my anger. A wave of pain must have struck him then—the shaman's potion was taking effect. His face contorted in agony. His hands started twitching as if his body were tearing itself apart.

Perhaps it was the pain that frayed his patience. His voice, when he spoke again, was louder, more cutting.

"How much longer are you going to act so unreasonable?" he snapped. "I told you—I love you! Can't you give me even a shred of trust?"

"Spare me the sweet words," I said coldly. "Where is my father's spear?"

He faltered. "Your father's spear? Why do you—"

"Is it the one Alpha Jacob gifted me?" Hazel interrupted, her tone feigning innocence.

The blood in my veins boiled. He had given away the spear my father left me—to his mistress.

My eyes turned blood red with rage, and the wolf blood in my body stirred violently. My voice dropped into a growl.

"Give it back to me. Now."

I lunged toward her without waiting for an answer. Hazel shrieked and scrambled behind Jacob.

"Alpha, please! Save me! I'm carrying your child!"

Jacob instinctively shielded her with his body, his expression a mix of panic and resolve. Though he was usually formidable, the shaman's potion left him clumsy and off-balance. Still, his reflexes remained fast enough.

His fist struck me hard in the side.

Pain exploded through my body. I staggered backward as blood seeped through my clothes.

It was the same place where an old wound lingered—a wound only someone who knew me intimately could exploit.

And Jacob, of all people, had chosen to strike there.