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.

The air was thick with the sharp, metallic scent of blood. In the dim light, Jacob's expression twisted—shock and regret flashing across his face.

He rushed toward me, his hands trembling as he reached out. "Chloe, are you okay?" His voice cracked.

Turning to Hazel, who still wore a faint, self-satisfied smile, he snapped, "Go get the witch doctor—now! If anything happens to her, you'll pay for it!"

I pushed his hand away. "Why are you pretending to care now? You have a child on the way, and you still dare to claim you never betrayed me?"

The mask of tenderness cracked. Anger crept into his voice, hot and defensive. "Chloe, watch your tone. As Alpha of the Thorn Pack, I've already done more for you than anyone else would. Do you even understand the pain I've endured just to protect you from the truth?"

Sweat clung to my forehead, soaking through the strands of hair that stuck to my skin. He softened his tone as if his words could mend what was broken. "Chloe, as Alpha, I have obligations. You should understand that. It was nothing with Hazel—just a passing fling. My heart has always belonged to you."

After that, he sent me back to the castle. Officially, I was "recuperating." In reality, I was a prisoner.

At first, he acted as though nothing had changed. He would sit beside me, reminiscing about our sweet, distant past. But I refused to play along with his charade.

One day, he came to me, his usual arrogance replaced by an eager, almost boyish smile. He held a box in his hands, presenting it to me like some precious offering. When I opened it, my father's spear lay inside—the one he had given me before he died.

He thought this would please me. He thought it would make things right.

When I silently tucked the spear away, he leaned in, trying to kiss me. Like every other time in recent days, I turned my head, letting his lips meet nothing but cold air.

His smile twisted into a snarl. "Chloe," he growled, his patience finally snapping. "You have two choices—either kiss me, or take this."

He tossed a small glass bottle onto the bed.

"The witch doctor brewed this recently. It'll sever the bond between us. But no one's tried it before. The price could be anything… maybe thirty years off your lifespan."

He spoke as though this were the most natural thing in the world. "I'm an adult werewolf in my prime. If you won't take care of my needs, someone else will."

I stayed silent. He must have thought his threat had struck home because his expression softened as he reached out to pull me into his arms.

Without a word, I picked up the bottle, unsealed the cap, and downed the contents in a single gulp.

His face drained of color. "You would rather give up years of your life than be with me? Chloe, you're the coldest, most heartless woman I've ever known."

And with that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

That night, he didn't come back.

At first, I felt relief. But then the pain hit, as if claws were tearing through my chest from the inside.

It was the bond—his betrayal had finally cut through whatever fragile connection still remained between us. The agony came in waves, dragging me under, until I could no longer tell where the pain ended and I began.

Hours passed, or maybe days. I lost track.

When he finally returned, his face was flushed with satisfaction. The door creaked open, and he stood over me—like a king surveying his broken subject.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" His voice was cruelly soft. "I took the witch doctor's medicine before, you know. Just to spare you this pain. But not tonight." He smiled faintly, as though this justified everything. "Now you understand how much I love you."

I said nothing. There was no energy left to resist or fight back.

He mistook my silence for defiance, anger flashing in his eyes. With a bitter laugh, he turned and left the room.

Downstairs, the sound of celebration echoed through the castle. He made no effort to hide it—his laughter mixing with Hazel's soft murmurs as they kissed in the main hall.

A few women—wives who had suffered the same torment—gathered outside my door. They spoke in voices loud enough for me to hear every word.

"So proud, isn't she? Thought she was special. But in the end, she's no better than the rest of us."

"Exactly. She should come out and drink with us. It's the only way to dull the pain."

And then, as if on cue, Jacob arrived, his arm draped around Hazel's shoulders. His voice rang out—fake and condescending. "Don't be disrespectful to my wife."

A beat of silence, then he added, "Chloe, I'm giving you one last chance. Admit you were wrong. If you do, I'll forgive everything. You'll still be my Luna—the most honored woman in the Thorn Pack."

I didn't answer.

Annoyed, he shoved the door open, ready to unleash another cruel lecture.

But the words died on his lips and he froze.

Because lying on the bed, my body had already grown cold.