In the middle of the night, a fierce pang of hunger jolted me awake.

I walked to the kitchen, only to freeze in my tracks. Silas was home.

He had bought Chloe a massive villa. They lived there together; she cooked for him, spoiled him, and waited for him to come home. Silas was living an enviable life.

He hadn't stepped foot in our house for months.

He was leaning against the floor-to-ceiling window, a cigarette dangling from his lips, watching me with dark, unfathomable eyes.

I kept my head down, trying to walk past him, but he grabbed my wrist. He frowned and asked softly, "How did you get so thin?"

His tone was so gentle, as if he still loved me.

Startled, I violently yanked my hand away. "Silas, what the hell is wrong with you? Are you crazy?"

He stared at his empty palm, the warmth in his eyes freezing over instantly.

I walked to the dining table and stopped dead. Sitting right in the center was an exquisite strawberry cake, its candles unlit.

The phone call hadn't been a dream.

I said I wanted cake, and the great Alpha of the Silvercrown Pack actually went out and bought one. What was this? An olive branch?

But I was dying. I didn't need cake anymore. And I didn't need Silas anymore, either.

I grabbed the box and dumped the entire cake straight into the trash can.

Silas's jaw twitched. Moving with lightning speed across the room, he grabbed my shoulders and slammed me hard against the wall.

"Are you fucking playing with me, Aria?!" he snarled, his fangs elongating.

I smiled, looking him dead in the eye. "Yeah, Silas. I was messing with you. So what?"

"I say I want cake, and you run out to get it like an obedient little dog. Why are you still so pathetic?"

I deliberately twisted the knife deep into his pride. I watched the color drain from his face, instantly replaced by a terrifying, beastly fury.

His wolf was waking up.

He crushed his cigarette against the wall, dragged me into the bedroom, and threw me onto the mattress.

He was out of his mind. Like a wild animal, he ripped the collar of my nightgown.

I fought back fiercely, my fists pounding against his rock-hard chest. "Silas, you bastard! Don't touch me! You disgust me!"

He pinned my legs and trapped me beneath him. Burying his face in my neck, he bit down hard—not the intimate nip of pack mates, but a savage bite that brought tears to my eyes.

"Can't you just be gentle, Aria?" he growled low against my skin. "Do you know how many years I've waited just for you to really look at me? Do you know how happy I was when you called to ask me for a cake?"

"And then you treat me like a joke?" He raised his head, his eyes flashing with the wrath of his wolf, the amber glow reflecting his inner rage.

I fought back my tears and glared at him.

In the dimly lit room, neither of us spoke. Neither was willing to surrender.

Silas lowered his head, his lips hovering mere inches from mine—when his phone rang.

It was Chloe.

Silas stiffened, but he still answered it.

I could hear her crying through the receiver. "Silas... did you abandon me for Aria? You said you loved me... I'm at a neutral territory bar right now, and some men are following me... I'm so scared. Please come save me..."

Silas didn't answer her. He just stared down at me, a cruel smile touching the corners of his mouth.

"Beg me, Aria," he commanded softly. "Beg me to stay. Just say the word, and I won't leave."

He had forgotten. A long time ago, I had swallowed my pride, fallen to my knees at his feet, and begged. "Silas, can we please just talk? Can we stop torturing each other? Could you just be gentle with me?"

That day, Silas looked at me with eyes as cold as ice and said, "You don't deserve it, Aria."

Those words had festered in my chest for years, brewing into a rich, malicious torment.

Today, I could finally say them back.

I grabbed his collar, pulled him close, and whispered, "You don't deserve it, Silas."

He went completely rigid.

Then, he covered his eyes with one hand and let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Fuck!"

He brought the phone back to his ear. "Stay there. I'm coming to get you."

He stood up without looking back, walked out, and slammed the door behind him.

The next morning, photos of Alpha Silas getting into a massive brawl with humans outside a bar over Chloe were splashed across every supernatural and human tabloid.

It was the first time he had allowed his infidelity to be so public.

The paparazzi swarmed the entrance to the Packhouse. The moment I stepped out, they ambushed me, shoving microphones and cameras into my face.

A young female reporter pushed her way to the front. "Luna Aria, do you have any comments on the relationship between the Alpha and Chloe?"

I kept walking, too bothered to even look at her. "One is a married man breaking his vows, and the other is a homewrecking slut who's proud of it. What exactly do you want me to say?"

The girl chased after me, shouting, "But everyone knows you dumped him when he was broke! You abandoned him for money! And once he built his empire, you used an ancient blood oath to force him into the mate bond!"

"Now the Alpha has found his true love. He and Chloe are soulmates. You're just a parasite, clinging to the Luna title. Don't you think you're the bully here?"

I stopped in my tracks, turned around slowly, and reached out to snatch the press badge from around her neck.

I looked at her with dead, empty eyes. "You're Chloe's friend, aren't you?"

"When Silas decided to mate with me, he used ruthless tactics against my family. Do you really think I wanted to be tied to him? The pack elders all know this. Or are you just here to smear my name so your little friend can steal my place?"

She paled and snatched her badge back. "I am her friend, but I'm an objective reporter! If you don't want to be with him, why don't you break the bond?"

I smiled and was about to answer when a sudden wave of dizziness hit me. Thick, black blood gushed from my nose, dripping down my chin.

Someone in the crowd sneered. "Look at her, pretending she doesn't care, but she's so worked up she's getting a nosebleed."

Trembling, I raised a finger and wiped the blood from my lips.

"I'm not worked up," my voice was eerily calm. "My body is failing. I'm dying. I get nosebleeds a lot lately."

The chaotic crowd instantly fell dead silent, the mockery catching in their throats.

Only Chloe's friend muttered under her breath, "Stop faking. Playing the victim over a nosebleed... It's pathetic. Relying on pity to keep a man is shameful."

She flipped her hair and stormed off. From the back, she was just as obnoxious as Chloe.

The video of my bloody confrontation with the reporter went viral across all social media networks.

Silas publicly issued a chilling Alpha command: The mate bond will never be broken. Anyone who dares to harass my mate will face execution by the pack.

That very afternoon, Chloe's reporter friend was fired and banished from Silvercrown territory.

Online, the wolves' comments were vicious.

"She's so toxic. If she doesn't want to be married to the Alpha, she can just run away! Now she's playing the victim."

"She claims to be his 'first love,' but she's just a manipulator."

"She sold him out for money when he was weak, and came crawling back when he became the Alpha. Absolutely disgusting."

Suddenly, an anonymous user commented: Shut your filthy mouths. If you don't know the truth, stop barking.

People flooded the replies, demanding to know the truth.

The truth? It was almost unbearably cliché.

Years ago, Silas had been poisoned by a rival pack. The venom was destroying his wolf.

The pack healer told me he wouldn't last a week.

The only cure was a direct, voluntary transplant of a healthy wolf core.

Doing so would strip the donor of their wolf, drastically shorten their lifespan, and subject them to a slow, agonizing death.

The night he slipped into a coma, I sat by his bedside.

My mother begged me not to do it.

"Aria," she cried, holding my hand. "He's a good boy. But if you do this, you will die."

"I know, Mom," I whispered, "but he will live."

I remembered when we were teenagers. He only had twelve dollars to his name. He bought me a ten-dollar meal, and used the remaining two dollars to buy us each a drink. He lied and said he had already eaten, just watching me eat with a tender smile. He was an orphan, treated like trash by the world, yet he poured all his love into me.

Because he was so exceptionally good to me, I simply couldn't bear to let him die.

My chest was cracked open. I gave him my core, my strength, my inner wolf.

When he woke up, fully healed and surging with Alpha power, I was already gone.

I left a letter saying I had found a rich human to marry because I was sick of his poverty and craved the human world.

I knew his pride.

I knew that if he thought I had sacrificed my life for him, it would completely destroy him.

Ten years had passed, but that memory still brought physical pain. It felt like my chest was being cracked open all over again.

I coughed up black blood once more.

It hurts so much, Mom.