Blood spread across my white dress, pooling at my feet. "No! Our child!" My wolf’s cry tore through the air, raw and desperate, as the rogue’s attack slammed me to the ground.

I tried reaching out to Cassian Vexis, my mate and the Alpha of Crescent Ember Pack, through our mind-link. But there was no answer.

Not until the rogue finally tired of tormenting me, and I was too weak to fight back. Then I saw him—Cassian, my mate—his arm around Emira Velis, his Beta, as they stepped out of a car in the distance.

“Cassian!” I screamed his name, but Emira shrieked and pressed herself into him, as if trying to disappear into his arms.

He held her tighter. “Don’t look,” he said, his voice cold and detached. “How unlucky.”

That night, I reached out to Darius Arion, the Head Councilor of the Werewolf Council, through the mind-link.

My voice was steady, though every word felt like it was being torn from me. “I’ve made my decision. I’m leaving Crescent Ember Pack. I’ll join the Council next week.”

….

The smell of iron and earth filled my nostrils as I clutched my abdomen, the warm blood seeping through my fingers. The rogue had come out of nowhere—a blur of claws and teeth tearing through the pack's outer forest. I barely managed to fight him off before collapsing onto the dirt, my strength draining with every second.

My vision blurred as I tried to focus, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. Someone had to come. Someone would notice.

And then I saw him.

A sleek black SUV pulled up on the dirt road. The driver’s door opened, and Cassian Vexis, my mate and the Alpha of Crescent Ember Pack, stepped out. Relief surged through me. He would save me. He always would.

But my heart sank when I saw Emira Velis, his Beta, step out beside him. She was laughing softly, the sound sharp and clear even through the haze of my pain. Her scent, a distinctive mix of cedar and honey, drifted through the air and hit my senses like a mockery of my own.

Cassian glanced at me—just a brief flicker of his golden eyes—and then shielded Emira’s face with his hand.

“Don’t look,” he said, his voice cold and detached. “How unlucky.”

And just like that, they drove away, leaving me to bleed on the forest floor.

---

By the time one of the patrol guards found me, it was too late.

I woke up in the healer’s clinic, the sterile scent of herbs and antiseptics filling the air. The healer, Iris, stood over me, her expression heavy with sympathy.

“You were eight weeks pregnant, Luna,” she said softly. “If you’d been brought here sooner, the pup might have been saved.”

Her words cut through me like a blade. Eight weeks. I hadn’t even known.

I barely felt the eight stitches as she worked on the wound the rogue had left on my leg. The physical pain was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

---

When I returned to the packhouse later that evening, I felt hollow. My steps echoed through the empty halls, my body moving on autopilot.

As I walked into the bedroom I shared with Cassian, something caught my eye—a delicate piece of lace fabric hanging off the edge of a chair. It was a soft rose color, feminine and elegant. It wasn’t mine.

I stared at it for a long moment before carefully folding it and placing it on the edge of the bed.

Instead of anger, a chilling calm settled over me.

I picked up my phone and dialed the number I’d been given weeks ago.

“Darius Arion, Head Councilor of the Werewolf Council,” the voice on the other end said warmly. “Celia, have you made your decision?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice steady. “I’ll leave the Crescent Ember Pack and join the Council next week.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Darius replied. “The Council will be honored to have you.”

As the call ended, Cassian walked out of the adjoining bathroom, his dark hair still damp. He glanced at me briefly, his usual commanding presence filling the room.

“Who were you talking to just now?” he asked, his voice casual.

“The Council,” I replied truthfully.

He grunted, his attention already shifting to his phone. He didn’t ask for details. He never did.

I didn’t argue or explain. Instead, I began drafting my resignation letter on my phone, knowing that my time here was coming to an end.

---

Cassian picked up the glass of herbal tonic I prepared for him every night, only to find it empty. His eyes flicked toward me, confusion flashing across his face.

“Celia, I showed your injury report to the healer,” he said after a moment. “She said it’s superficial. Just make sure to keep it dry.”

I didn’t look up from my phone as I typed. “Got it.”

He furrowed his brows, clearly unsettled by my lack of reaction, but before he could say anything, his phone buzzed. A faint smile spread across his lips as he turned and walked into his study, leaving me alone.

Once he was gone, I reached for the old phone I kept hidden—a private account that Cassian didn’t know about.

I scrolled through the pack forum until I found his latest post.

It was visible to everyone in the pack except me.

“Apology from Alpha Cassian Vexis: I broke my promise to the most hardworking Beta in the pack. I promised to leave work on time and take her for a run under the full moon. I’ll do better next time.”

My lips curled into a bitter smile as I hit the like button. A moment later, a notification appeared—a confirmation from Darius regarding my Council contract.

I signed it without hesitation.

---

The next morning, Cassian woke early and returned to the packhouse with a bag of food from the local market.

“Your favorite,” he said, placing the bag in front of me.

I opened it, only to find venison pies inside.

My stomach churned. “Cassian, I’ve been allergic to venison since I was a child.”

His expression flickered for just a moment before he stood abruptly, his tone cold. “Stop making a fuss. Eat it or don’t.”

He started to leave, but I wasn’t done.

“Wait,” I said, stepping into the bedroom. When I returned, I carried a small bag.

“Give this to Emira when you see her later,” I said, my voice calm.

Cassian opened the bag, his eyes widening at the sight of the lace lingerie inside. He opened his mouth as if to explain, but I cut him off.

“Just tell her not to leave her things lying around in our bedroom.”

He hesitated, then nodded. “Fine.”

“Okay,” I replied, my tone void of emotion.

For a moment, I thought he might say something more, but instead, he turned and walked away.

---

The bond between Cassian and me pulsed faintly in my chest—a constant, suffocating reminder of what we were supposed to be. But after everything, it felt more like a chain than a blessing.

I had loved him once, fiercely and completely. But now, all I felt was emptiness.

…..

The dining room felt oppressively silent as I sat there, my fingers absently tracing the edge of my plate. The events of the past day replayed in my mind: the rogue attack, the miscarriage, and Cassian’s betrayal. My grip tightened on the fork in my hand, and before I realized it, I had knocked it to the ground.

I bent down to retrieve it, my hands trembling slightly. When I straightened, Cassian was already at the door, his tall frame outlined by the morning light streaming through the windows.

“There’s an issue with the northern border patrol,” he said curtly, his back still to me. “I’ll take you out next time.”

Without waiting for my reply, he left, closing the door behind him with a deliberate finality.

---

Half an hour later, I made my way to the administrative wing of the packhouse. Every step sent a dull ache through my leg, the stitches from the rogue attack pulling with each movement. My colleagues were already at their desks, their conversations cutting off the moment I entered the room.

I could feel their eyes on me as I walked past, sympathy and discomfort mingling in their expressions. Ignoring them, I took my seat and busied myself with work, pretending I didn’t notice the glances or the hushed whispers that followed me.

In the break room, as I refilled my water bottle, I overheard two wolves whispering near the coffee machine.

“Did you hear about Alpha Cassian and Beta Emira?” one of them murmured.

“Of course,” the other replied. “He’s always with her. Everyone’s noticed. Poor Luna Celia.”

My hand froze mid-pour. I clenched the water bottle tightly, willing myself to stay calm.

“It’s obvious he favors her,” the first wolf continued. “Just this morning, she tripped during training, and he personally carried her to the infirmary. Can you imagine?”

The bottle slipped from my hands, water spilling across the countertop and onto the floor. The room fell silent, the two wolves turning to stare at me with wide eyes.

I forced a tight smile and crouched down to clean the mess. Without a word, I threw the wet paper towels into the trash and walked out of the break room.

---

The hours dragged on as I buried myself in work, determined not to let my emotions show. By the time I looked up from my desk, the sky outside had darkened, and the rest of the staff had already left.

A faint scent reached me—pine and smoke. Before I could turn, I felt the weight of a jacket draped over my shoulders.

“Celia,” Cassian’s voice was low but sharp. “Why didn’t you respond to my messages?”

I frowned, unlocking my phone to check. A single message from him lit up the screen:

“What kind of herbal tea do you and the girls usually prefer?”

The question made my chest tighten. A memory surfaced, unbidden: years ago, I’d asked Cassian to bring me jasmine tea, a rare treat from the southern packs. He had scoffed, calling it a “pointless indulgence.”

But now he was asking about tea preferences—for Emira, no doubt.

“You always wanted things like this,” Cassian said, mistaking my silence for hesitation. “I thought you’d appreciate the effort.”

“It’s too late,” I replied, my voice flat. “If I drink tea now, I won’t sleep.”

He studied me for a moment, as if trying to gauge my mood, before saying, “I’ll be in the council chamber. Wait here, and we’ll leave together.”

He turned and walked away, leaving his phone on my desk. A few minutes later, the screen lit up with a message:

“Cassian, you’re spoiling me! You know I can’t resist chamomile. Are you trying to make me lazy? –Emira”

My stomach churned, but I said nothing.