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.

I bought my mother's favorite white lilies, preparing to visit her grave one last time. I was dying, and I needed to tell her I wouldn't be coming anymore.

But before that, I went to Silvercrown Tower to retrieve something.

Before my mother passed away, she had visited a Moon Singer and commissioned two carved obsidian wolf totems. They were soul anchors. One was engraved with Silas's birth rune, and the other with mine.

They were meant to protect us, ensuring our souls would always be able to find each other.

Silas refused to take the one with his rune, and instead took mine. He said the little wolf figurine looked exactly like me—stubborn and a little clumsy. He kept it on the massive oak desk in his office.

I was terrified that after I died, Silas would throw it away like garbage. It was a gift from my mother. I had to take it back and have it buried with me.

When I walked into his office, Silas was watching the video of my nosebleed from that morning. Seeing me, he tossed his phone aside, his expression unreadable. He didn't ask how I was feeling.

I glanced at his desk. The spot where my obsidian totem usually sat was empty.

I frowned. "Where is my totem?"