It took Adrian nearly half a week to walk unaided.

His recovery had been slow-slower than what an Alpha's should be-because his mate had withdrawn.

Mira never visited. Just as he had demanded.

Everyone had expected the Luna to relent first. Luna Mira was, after all, renowned for her grace and virtue, always placing Alpha Adrian and the pack's well-being above all else. Yet, she did not.

No messages. No calls. Not even an inquiry about his condition through the pack physicians.

Adrian did not reach out to her either.

The standoff lasted until the day Alpha Adrian returned to the manor. The house was immaculate as ever, but something vital was missing.

For the first time, Mira was not waiting at the door to welcome him home, to take his coat with a smile and ask if he needed anything.

The realization stung the proud Alpha. Not with guilt, but with the affront to his authority.

"Mira," he called through the bond. Silence was her only reply.

Adrian took the stairs two at a time, pushing into their bedroom. The sight of his wife seated at her vanity made him frown.

"I was calling for you. Why do you not answer your Alpha?"

The brush in Mira's hand hesitated for only a fraction of a second as he shut the door behind him. His scent of sandalwood and pine instantly filled the space. She clenched her fist, trying to ignore the inner pull, the way his presence seemed to wrap around her.

She could make her tone light. "I assumed you weren't lonely. After all, don't you have your most excellent assistant for company?"

After Ivy's arrival, Adrian had not only offered her sanctuary but a position within the family corporation as his personal assistant.

His office, the one place he had always insisted was off-limits to Mira-as Luna, your domain is the pack's heart and home, he'd said-was now Ivy's daily workplace.

The thought nearly made the brush in Mira's hand snap.

"You know Ivy has been through a great deal," Adrian continued, closing the distance, utterly blind to the bitter edge in her words. "She's sensitive. Fragile. You shouldn't take your temper out on her."

Ivy, Ivy, Ivy. Mira threw the brush onto the vanity with a clatter.

"Right! She's sensitive, she's fragile, she needs protecting. Then go be with her! Why come back here?"

She stared up at him, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears, filled with a hurt he seemed determined not to see.

A flicker of surprise passed through Adrian's gaze, quickly schooled back into impassivity. "Mind your tone, Mira."

His hands came down on her shoulders, firm and imposing. "You are my mate. You should never turn away from me."

Mira's lashes fluttered. So he did remember she was his mate.

Adrian leaned in, his breath a whisper against her skin. "I need you, Mira."

His words sounded intimate, but his tone was disturbingly cold. Mira's heart trembled with a bitter ache. This wasn't an endearment; it was a command, a statement of his needs. He still required the power of the mate-bond to heal.

Tears threatened again, but Adrian paid them no mind, intent on claiming her lips. With a surge of courage she didn't know she possessed, Mira pushed against his chest. "Don't touch me!"

A shadow flickered in Adrian's eyes. "Mira! My patience has limits!" He took a forceful step forward, his arms wrapping around her waist, effortlessly lifting and pinning her beneath him on the bed, straddling her hips. "Obey your Alpha! This is your duty as Luna!"

"No! No, I can't! Not like this!"

"It's been three years, Mira." Adrian's kiss was a hard, demanding pressure. "You can't retreat forever. I want you. Now."

Tears streamed freely as Mira kicked and struggled, but Adrian was unyielding. His strength was absolute. One hand pinned her wrists above her head while the other tore ruthlessly at her clothes.

Heartbreak mingled with a deeper, colder dread within Mira. She had never imagined her husband would treat her like the monster from three years ago.

He knew. He knew what that night had done to her, the trauma that had nearly shattered her, the way it had left her terrified of a man's touch.

He knew of the shame she carried. On their wedding night, he had promised, his voice solemn, 'I will never force you'.

As Adrian's tongue forced its way past her lips, Mira bit down, hard.

Adrian grunted in pain, his grip loosening. Seizing the moment, Mira shoved him off and scrambled to the farthest corner of the bed, dragging the torn covers around her trembling form.

Adrian went rigid. For a split second, something like regret flashed in his eyes-but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"Mira," he said, frustration edging his voice, "you can't live in fear of this forever. I am your Alpha. Your husband."

The impatience in his tone cut deeper than any shout.

A tight, suffocating pain seized Mira's chest. He had never spoken to her like this before, not about this. Their therapist had advised patience, taking things slowly. And things had been getting better.

Just three months ago, they had shared a few, truly tender kisses. She had finally stopped flinching at his touch. Now, all that fragile progress lay in ruins.

She flinched again as he shifted on the bed.

"Please... just go away..." Her plea was a broken whisper.

Adrian stared at her for a long moment, then let out a deep, exasperated sigh. He stood up and strode from the room-boots still on-slamming the door shut behind him.

The silence in the room was deafening. The mate-bond ached dully between them, a silent siren call urging her to follow, to submit. But she couldn't erase the image of his face, twisted with a determination that had felt like cruelty. The same cold, isolating despair she'd known three years ago washed over her once more.

Only this time, it came from her husband. That cut the deepest.

Mira didn't know how long she cried before her phone rang. It was the cake shop's delivery service.

Then she remembered. Today was their wedding anniversary.

She had ordered the cake a week ago, harboring a fragile, private hope: if all went well today, she might have found the courage to finally, fully, give herself to him, to complete their bond in every way.

Now, that courage lay in splinters.

His impatient tone, his disappointed eyes flashed before her. For a fleeting second, doubt wavered within her. Had she overreacted? Had he chosen to come home today because the date meant something to him, too?

Swallowing hard, she mustered the remnants of her resolve and dialed Adrian's number.

One ring, two. No answer. She tried again. And again.

Then, the final, definitive click of a declined call. He was truly angry, wasn't he?

Her fingers trembled as she scrolled and dialed his Beta, Mason.

The line connected, and a wall of thumping bass and raucous laughter exploded from the speaker.

"Luna?" Mason's voice came through, loud and casual over the din. "It's late. Everything alright?"

"Is Adrian with you?" Mira asked, her voice barely a whisper against the noise. "I can't reach him."

"The Alpha had a bit too much," Mason replied easily. "Stepped away for a moment. Don't worry, I've got him."

He paused, then added, "I've got another call coming in-"

Mira stared at the phone, her lower lip caught between her teeth. His lie was flimsy, transparent.

The call hadn't disconnected.

She heard a muffled voice, thick with drink and derision. "Funny the Luna still bothers. Three years and she hasn't let the Alpha touch her-no wonder he runs to Ivy."

A chorus of rough laughter followed.

"Alpha Adrian treats Ivy like a treasure. Does Luna Mira actually think she's special? Everyone knows what happened to her. Damaged goods. Couldn't even keep her virtue. The Alpha's mercy is all that keeps her."

Another voice chimed in. "Ivy wasn't around back then. Now that she is, the Alpha finally knows what a real gem is. Look at them dance. They fit. The tainted Mira should do the pack a favor and step aside."

Each word was a lash, stripping her bare.

The mockery. The scorn.

They all knew. Everyone knew.

Everyone knew of his infidelity but her. He had made a public fool of her.

Heat prickled behind her eyes, a fresh wave of tears threatening.

Even *that*-the thing Adrian had sworn on his life never to tell another soul-was pack gossip now.

He had promised to guard her dignity for a lifetime, and he had broken that vow, too.

She clenched her jaw, forcing the tears back. A tight, furious pain constricted her chest. Her wolf howled in silent agony, but she remained perfectly still.

She held that position until the first grey light of dawn seeped through the curtains.

When her phone finally chimed, she didn't startle.

A part of her, a foolish, wounded part, expected-almost hoped-for a message from him. Even that was too much to ask.

It was Ivy. A new post on the pack's public network.

The image was of a slender wrist adorned with an exquisite, sparkling diamond bracelet. The caption, simple and dripping with faux innocence, read:

**I just happened to admire it in passing. The Alpha insisted it belonged on my wrist.**

Mira's heart nearly stalled when she recognized the bracelet. Others might see only its staggering price, but Mira knew the story behind its design.

A choice for one's only beloved.

A laugh, sharp and mirthless, escaped her. Only now did the full, devastating depth of her own folly truly crash over her. The scrolling comments beneath the post twisted the knife.

"Is the Alpha spoiling you again?"

"Is Assistant Ivy going to be our new Luna?"

"The way he looks at her... it's definitely not just professional!"

A numb sensation spread through Mira as she scrolled until a familiar private account-Adrian's discreet secondary profile-caught her eye. His comment was brief, a single line beneath Ivy's post:

"You deserve it."

Ivy's immediate reply was a single, glowing heart emoji.

Mira almost laughed again, the sound choked with bitterness. They couldn't even be bothered to hide it anymore. Did they think she was dead? She would not tolerate this humiliation a moment longer. A cold, clear fury propelled her into action. She dialed the jeweler.

"Send over every piece from the new collection," she commanded, her voice eerily calm. "To the headquarters of Vale Industries. Immediately."

Within the hour, she was dressed and composed, standing in the executive secretary pool of Adrian's corporate empire. Several personal shopping consultants trailed behind her, arms laden with glossy brand boxes.

"L-Luna?" Adrian's chief assistant, also the pack's Gamma, stammered, rising from his desk. "What brings you here-"

The whispered title sent a ripple through the room-curiosity, surprise, a flicker of excitement.

Mira offered a serene smile, adrenaline singing in her veins, mingling with a strange, defiant thrill. For three years as Adrian's mate, she had remained largely unseen. Only a handful here knew her face.

She lifted her chin and raised her right hand, letting the distinctive, moonstone-set Luna's ring catch the light. Her identity needed no further introduction.

"Everyone has been working so diligently," she announced, her voice carrying effortlessly. "I've brought a small token of appreciation. One for each of you."

With a graceful wave of her hand, the consultants stepped forward, opening the velvet-lined boxes in unison. Nestled inside each was a bracelet-the exact design Adrian had given Ivy.

So he likes giving bracelets? 'Only beloved,' is it? Let's see how special it feels now.

A collective gasp filled the air. No one had expected the Luna to appear, let alone bestow such extravagant gifts. Hesitant voices arose. "These... are truly for us, Luna?"

"Of course," Mira's smile widened, genuine warmth touching her eyes. "Your dedication is invaluable. A pack-a company-thrives when its heart is united. My Alpha is a visionary leader, but even he can overlook the details. It's my duty as his Luna to ensure balance is kept."

The room erupted in grateful exclamations and excited chatter as the women eagerly accepted their gifts.

It was then that Ivy appeared in the doorway. Her gaze was sharp, her jaw tight.

"Mira-Luna," she corrected, her tone sweet yet strained. "You needn't have gone to such trouble. And these gifts... does Adrian know?"

Mira turned to face her fully.

"Since when does the pack's welfare, or the use of its resources, require your approval?" Mira asked, her tone deceptively mild. "Those matters belong to the Alpha and his Luna alone."

She took a single, deliberate step forward, closing the distance.

"And 'Adrian' is for my use. You will address your Alpha with the proper title and maintain a respectful distance."

She didn't need to raise her voice or issue a threat. The message was crystal clear.

A dead silence fell over the room. The other women watched the exchange with bated breath, their loyalties palpably shifting.

After all, it was the Luna who had brought tangible honor and reward. Ivy's favored status granted them nothing but whispered gossip.

The moment Ivy understood, the color drained from her face.

Her eyes widened, instantly glistening with unshed tears. Her lips parted as if to form some explanation. "You-you misunderstand, that wasn't what I-"

Mira didn't even glance her way, rendering her utterly invisible.

She turned instead to Mary, the senior secretary, gesturing to the remaining boxes. "Please ensure the bracelets are distributed. They are gifts from me. What you do with them afterwards is your own affair. Just remember, they are a token of the Luna's esteem."

"Of course, Luna." Mary's face flickered with a mix of deference and excitement as she swiftly complied.

One by one, the bracelets were handed out. When the distribution reached its end, Mary paused, her cheeks flushing slightly as she did a quick count.

"Luna," she said cautiously, "it seems... we are one short. Assistant Ivy hasn't received one."

Mira's expression didn't flicker.

"Doesn't she already have one?" she asked, her voice cool and clear. "Since Alpha Adrian has already gifted her a bracelet, there's no need for a duplicate."

A profound silence settled over the office.

Every gaze in the room shifted-slow, curious, piercing-landing on Ivy, whose face was now a mask of mortified crimson.

Mira let her eyes rest on Ivy, tilting her head slightly. "Is there a problem, Assistant Ivy? Or do you believe your contributions have so far exceeded everyone else's here that you deserve a double portion of recognition?"

It was a masterful question. For Ivy to claim 'yes' would be to declare herself an enemy to every woman in the room. Her promotion to the Alpha's personal assistant was already seen by many as unearned favoritism; much of her supposed work was quietly completed by others.

Ivy swallowed with visible difficulty, forcing a brittle smile. "Of course not... The Luna is most considerate."

Ignoring the feeble compliment, Mira offered the rest of the room a gracious smile. "I will be taking a more active role in the pack's affairs from now on. Should any of you have concerns, my door is open. You have my word on fair and just treatment."

Then, amidst a sea of newly respectful and admiring looks, she swept out of the office.

The moment the door clicked shut, a wave of hushed, derisive laughter bubbled up inside.

"Some people really think a few feathers make them a phoenix."

"Exactly. She should look in a mirror. How could she ever compare to the Luna?"

"The Alpha and Luna are fated mates. No one comes between that."

"What a clown."

Mira paused just outside the door, a faint, cold smile touching her lips. Her wolf's keen hearing captured every whispered jab with perfect clarity. She could even hear Ivy's sharp, ragged intake of breath.

So Ivy likes to play games? Let her taste the bitterness of her own medicine.

She had tolerated Adrian's neglect because he was her mate, though even that well of patience was running dry. But from this day forward, she would allow no one else to trample on her dignity. Not anymore.

*

As expected, the call came just as she was driving home.

She answered calmly.

"Mira." Adrian's voice was sharp with displeasure. "What you did today was completely out of line."

His tone was icy, brimming with accusation.

"Because of you, Ivy is being isolated. The whole office is talking. She's considering leaving."

Mira's temper flared before she could stop it.

"And you're blaming *me*?" she shot back, her voice razor-edged. "Did you spare a single thought for my feelings when you bought her that bracelet and publicly fawned over her post?"

"It was just a bracelet," Adrian snapped. "She admired it, so I gave it to her. Why must you turn everything into a spectacle? You were never this... difficult before."

He paused, his next words dropping like stones, final and cold.

"I won't be coming home tonight. Use the time to cool down and reflect on your behavior. Ivy has suffered enough. There's no need for you to target her further."

The line went dead.

Mira sat in silence, tears welling despite her furious efforts to hold them back.

This was it. The final thread of hope, severed. There was nothing left to say, no bridge left to cross.

If he was so determined to shield another woman, to cast her as the villain in their story, then what was left for her in this loveless charade of a marriage?

With a steady hand that belied the chasm opening inside her, she pulled over and dialed her private lawyer.

"Draft the papers," she said, her voice clear and devoid of all emotion. "I want a divorce from Alpha Adrian."

Adrian did not come home.

The first night, Mira told herself it was expected. He had said he wouldn't return. She prepared for the silence, the dull ache of the mate-bond stretching thin between them like an overstrained wire.

The second night, disappointment settled in her chest like sediment.

By the third, something inside her went quiet. She didn't feel anymore; she couldn't. The house was quiet, too quiet.

No footsteps in the hall. No faint pull of his presence through the bond. No messages, no explanations delivered through intermediaries. The manor remained pristine and hollow, every room echoing with absence. His absence.

On the fourth morning, the call came. Mira half hoped it would be her mate. But as expected, it wasn't Adrian.

It was an unknown caller. She considered ignoring it, too out of it to care, but curiosity won.

"Luna Mira," a woman said carefully on the other end of the line. "This is Clara from the executive office. I-this call isn't official. I thought you deserved to know."

Mira, who was at the breakfast table, sat up, her curiosity piqued. Her untouched tea sloshed at the movement.

"Know what?" she asked calmly, biting back the curious edge.

There was a pause. Then, the woman spoke again. "The Alpha is not on a business trip."

That, in itself, was not a shock. Mira waited.

"He is currently in the southern territory. The coastal sector. With Assistant Ivy. At a private villa. The travel expenses... weren't discreetly filed."

A faint smile touched Mira's lips. It wasn't amusement, it was recognition.

Of course. A straying Alpha wouldn't spend his 'cooling-off' period alone. His time for 'reflection' was just a cover for a romantic getaway with his mistress.

"Thank you for telling me," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "You did the right thing."

After the call ended, Mira didn't move. She simply opened her tablet and logged into the pack's public network.

It took seconds to find them.

A video, posted by a travel blogger, autoplayed across her screen. Sunlight. Laughter. Adrian, relaxed in a way she had not seen in years, one arm draped possessively around Ivy's shoulders as they strolled along a white-sand shoreline. Ivy leaned into him, smiling up at his

face, her hand resting familiarly against his chest.

The mate-bond reacted instantly.

A sharp, instinctive pull-followed by a hollow echo, as if something vital had been scooped out of her and left exposed to air.

If she didn't know better, she'd have guessed they were mates, bound by the moon goddess herself.

She stared at the screen, waiting for the pain to crest.

It didn't.

Instead, numbness spread-cool, eerily soothing. The bond still existed, but it no longer felt sacred. It felt... functional. Like a marriage without love.

'So this is what breaking feels like,' she thought distantly.

She closed the video, going back to her tea, which had gone cold a while ago.

Two hours later, her lawyer called.

"Mira," he began without preamble, his voice tight. "We have a problem."

That was enough to get a reaction from her. She listened as he laid it out: the marriage contracts, the asset mergers, the board restructuring done shortly after her wedding-all decisions she had signed without hesitation, trusting the man she believed would stand beside her for life.

If she insists on proceeding with the divorce as planned, Adrian could legally claim controlling interest in Vale Industries.

Vale Industries was originally Sterling Industries.

The empire her father had built from the ground up. The legacy her mother had guarded for years.

Had it not been for that horrific tragedy, Mira would have entered its executive ranks under her mother's guidance and inherited the family business in full.

But the abduction three years ago didn't just take her mother's life; it left Mira with scars that never fully healed.

Back then, Adrian had been her only refuge, her sole hope.

After their marriage, following ancient pack tradition and the terms of the corporate merger, the company was renamed Vale Industries to align with marital custom.

Adrian had promised that the Sterling legacy would always remain at the heart of the enterprise.

Yet now, it seemed that promise had been little more than a comforting illusion.

"Unless," her lawyer continued carefully, "you can secure unwavering support from the board of directors, this will be an uphill battle."

"After all... you've spent the last few years strengthening Alpha Adrian's standing in both the company and the pack, rather than building influence of your own. This won't be easy."

Mira ended the call and sat very still.

Foolish. She'd been foolish. Love had made her careless. Marriage had made her vulnerable.

She had handed her power away with both hands, smiling as she did it.

Now she was trapped, in a marriage that humiliated her and a bond that hurt her. She exhaled, her gaze drifting to the final document on her desk: Adrian's itinerary.

Royal Capital.

Official purpose: negotiations with the Alpha King.

Unspoken truth: another stage on which to parade Ivy as his chosen companion.

A slow, deliberate breath filled Mira's lungs.

If Adrian wanted to use the capital to elevate himself, then she would use it to reclaim everything he had taken.

This was her chance, probably the only chance she'd get to free herself from the bondage her marriage had become.

With trembling fingers, she logged into the company network.

Within minutes, she summoned a select team-legal, financial, and strategic advisors who had once served her father directly. People who remembered her not as Adrian's wife, but as Mira Vale.

By nightfall, she was en route to the capital, her plan moving into action.

Her body trembled with adrenaline, and something that felt too close to hope.

***

The royal palace loomed like a carved mountain of stone and authority, its gates flanked by guards whose auras pressed outward in silent warning.

Mira stepped through them with feigned confidence, as though her heart didn't pound wildly in her chest, as though her hands didn't have a slight tremble.

The moment she entered the reception hall, the weight descended.

If she had been nervous before, this was something else entirely.. Power, ancient and absolute, coated the space. It pressed against her wolf, testing, oppressive. Mira straightened instinctively, refusing to show weakness.

The closer she drew to the Alpha King's office, the more restless her wolf became.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, her heart racing wildly.

She hesitated for only a heartbeat before pushing the heavy door open.

The office was dark, gloomy.

The King sat in his seat, posture relaxed, sharp grey eyes trained on her. She sucked in a sharp breath.

She'd heard the stories-how he had taken the throne by blood and strategy, and how no pack that tested him remained whole.

Alphas stiffened at the mention of his name, women cowered in fear, and children-they trembled.

Yet here she stood, in his domain with her chin raised, her shoulders squared, and her pulse racing.

The Alpha King stood.

He was younger than she had expected, eyes sharp, piercing. His aura pressed down on her, dangerous in the quiet way of those who never needed to raise their voice.

"Luna Mira Vale," he said smoothly. The sound of her name echoed through the room.

Mira froze.

She had not announced herself yet.

Slowly, she inclined her head, fighting the tremble in her limbs. "Your Majesty."

King Evren's lips curved-not in surprise, but in amusement.

"I've been expecting you," he said.