Right before our Mating Ceremony, my mate, Alpha Damien, told me he had to temporarily mark an Omega from our pack, Seraphina.

He claimed she had the Moon Sickness and would die if he didn't mark her.

I fought him on it, but the next day, he moved Seraphina right into the penthouse of the Pack House.

The suite meant for the future Luna.

My suite.

To calm me, he even got on his knees, his eyes red as he promised, "Once she's safe, I'll remove the mark. You'll still be my only Luna."

But then, Seraphina found me, a medical report in her hand.

Six weeks pregnant.

They'd already held their marking ceremony long before Damien ever came to me.

My heart shattered into ash.

My pen dug into the calendar, carving a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our Mating Ceremony.

Then, I opened my laptop and replied to the email from the European Laurel Healers' Guild.

"I accept your invitation. I leave on the day of the Mating Ceremony."

Right before our Mating Ceremony, my mate, Damien, said he needed to mark another she-wolf, Omega Seraphina—the one who’d supposedly saved his life.

"I have to give Seraphina a temporary mark. She's dying, Isla. The Moon Sickness is eating her alive."

Damien’s gaze was heavy on me.

I stopped mixing the moon petal elixir in my hands.

It was for our Mating Ceremony, said to make the mate bond even stronger.

And now, he wanted me to accept him marking another woman.

My fingertips started to tremble.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"It's the only way to save her." Damien turned away, unable to meet my eyes.

Those deep blue eyes I once loved were now a storm of conflict and chilling resolve.

"I owe her my life."

"I don't care what you owe her!" My voice went sharp. "A mark is sacred, Damien! It's supposed to be for us—"

"One month," he cut me off, his eyes bloodshot, a flicker of confusion in them as if he genuinely couldn't understand my resistance.

"I promise, I'll remove the mark right after the ceremony. She'll live, and you'll still be my only Luna."

I stared at him, my jaw tight. "I don't agree. Unless you want to cut our mate bond."

Damien's eyes finally turned to ice. "This isn't a request, Isla. A life is at stake. Don't make me force this."

He promised, "It’s just a temporary mark. It won’t affect our bond. In a month, everything will be back to normal."

Then he stormed out, slamming the door.

His Alpha scent, thick with anger, clung to the air long after he was gone.

The next day, I was standing at the entrance to the Pack Headquarters when a long, black sedan pulled up.

My whole body went numb.

Damien got out of the passenger seat and gently helped a delicate, fragile figure out of the car.

Seraphina.

She looked so pale, like a strong gust of wind could knock her over.

Damien's arm was wrapped around her waist, a protective gesture that sent a wave of nausea through me.

"Watch the steps," he said, his voice so gentle it made me want to scream.

It was a tone he had never once used with me.

I watched them walk into the building and get on the elevator.

Headed straight for the top floor.

For the luxury suite reserved only for the future Luna.

My suite.

Three hours later, Damien came back to our apartment.

I was waiting for him on the sofa, a cup of cold tea clutched in my hand.

"Is she settled in?" My voice was so calm it scared me.

Damien took off his jacket. "The pack healer said she needs a quiet environment."

"So you put her on the top floor."

"It has the best facilities," he said, avoiding my eyes. "It's just temporary."

I stood up and slowly walked toward him.

"Damien, where were you last night?"

He froze for a second. "Dealing with a border dispute. I told you."

"All night?"

"It was more complicated than I expected."

I stepped closer, close enough to smell the scent of another she-wolf on him.

The commingled scent was a poisoned needle, stabbing straight through our mate bond.

A sharp, tearing pain ripped through my soul, and I almost buckled.

It wasn't just Seraphina’s scent. It was deeper, more intimate.

The kind of deeply blended scent that only comes from a true Mating mark.

He had lied.

He wasn't dealing with a border dispute last night.

He was performing their marking ceremony.

And now, he was still trying to get my permission for something that was already done.

"Do you even still need my permission?" I took a step back, fighting the tears welling in my eyes.

"You have to understand, Isla. A life is at stake." Damien moved toward me, trying to take my hand.

"You're my fated mate," he insisted, as if that explained everything. "You should be on my side."

I yanked my hand away. "I need more time."

"There is no time. She won't last much longer."

Just then, the elevator to the penthouse opened.

Seraphina stepped out, draped in a white silk robe I'd never seen before.

Her cheeks were flushed with a sickly pink, but her eyes were bright.

She walked straight to Damien and leaned against his chest.

"Thank you, Damien," she said, her voice weak but sweet, her eyes fixed directly on me.

"I feel so much better already."

I didn't sleep all night.

After Seraphina retreated to the penthouse, Damien followed her up.

"She needs someone to look after her," was the only explanation he gave.

I sat in our empty apartment, the memory of that mark—its scent—replaying over and over in my mind.

The tear in our bond throbbed, a constant, agonizing reminder.

Then it hit me.

Three weeks ago.

That night.

Damien had said he was going to handle a border dispute and didn't come back until the next morning.

That night, I lay in bed, fighting back waves of searing pain that tore through our bond.

I thought something was wrong with me, or that Damien had been hurt in the conflict.

I only breathed a sigh of relief when he finally returned.

His clothes had the faint scent of laurel leaves on them.

The sacred incense burned only during a Mating Rite.

I'd even asked him, "Did you go to the Sacred Grove?"

He'd said, "Just passing by."

It never even crossed my mind that he would betray me. Betray our fate.

Now I understood.

He had already marked Seraphina that night.

And I, like a fool, had been sitting here worrying about his safety.

At dawn, my phone buzzed.

An encrypted email.

From: The Laurel Healers' Guild.

"Dear Miss Isla, we formally invite you to participate in our research initiative on Ancient Life Energies. This is the highest honor for a healer and the perfect place for your talents. Should you be interested, we hope for a response within the week."

I stared at the screen.

This was the opportunity I had dreamed of my entire life.

It was also my only way out.

Damien walked in just as I was packing my things.

"What are you doing?"

"Packing my herbs," I said without looking up. "Since the penthouse has a new occupant, I don't want to be in the way."

"Isla, listen to me—"

"There's nothing to say." I stood up and looked him dead in the eye. "The Mating Ceremony," I stated, my voice dangerously calm, "is off."

The color drained from Damien's face.

"You can't do that."

"I can," I said, turning back to my packing. "I refuse to mate with an Alpha who has already marked someone else."

"I told you, it's temporary!" he yelled, grabbing my arm. "I'll remove the mark in a month!"

"And then what?" I shook him off. "You think I'll ever trust you again?"

Pain flashed in Damien's eyes. "She's dying, Isla. I can't just stand by and watch her die."

"Why?" I demanded. "Because you owe her? Owe her for what?"

Damien fell silent, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"If you won't tell me, then we have nothing to talk about." I walked toward the door.

"Wait!" Damien scrambled after me, his powerful frame dropping to one knee before me. "I promise you, in one month, I will give you the grandest ceremony this continent has ever seen. Every pack in North America will be there to witness it."

I looked down at him, kneeling.

It wasn't pity I felt, but a bitter sense of absurdity and injustice.

Were our five years together, our fated bond, really going to end over a lie?

Was I really going to give up this easily?

In that moment of hesitation, the elevator doors opened.

Seraphina stepped out.

Seeing Damien on his knees, a fleeting, triumphant smirk touched her lips.

She walked right up to me and deliberately handed me a file folder.

"Isla," she said, her voice soft. "I know you're a healer, too. This is my medical report. Could you take a look? Damien's Alpha energy is so powerful. I've been recovering so well since the marking, but... there's been an unexpected side effect. I'm a little scared."

I took the report, my eyes scanning the data.

As a top-tier healer, I spotted the discrepancy immediately.

Six weeks pregnant.

But Damien had only completed the marking less than three weeks ago.

The dates didn't add up.

I looked up, my gaze cold, and handed the report to Damien.

"Congratulations," I said, my voice dripping with ice. "It seems this 'side effect' began long before the 'temporary mark'."

Then, without a second glance at his shocked and questioning face, I walked back into my room.

I looked at the calendar, at the bright red circle around our Mating Ceremony date.

It was now my departure date.

The countdown: thirteen days.

I opened my laptop and clicked reply.

"I accept your invitation. "

That night, Damien didn't come back to our apartment.

I knew where he was.

The next morning, I opened the pack's secure network.

The top post was a new update.

Alpha Damien had ordered a hundred thousand dollars' worth of rare supplements for Seraphina.

Blood Ginseng, Moonlight Fungus, and Starfruit—things only needed during a werewolf pregnancy.

The comments section exploded.

"Is our Alpha going to be a father?"

"But isn't Isla his Luna?"

"I heard that Seraphina girl moved into the penthouse."

"Isn't the Mating Ceremony next week?"

I shut my phone off.

At noon, I met my best friend, Chloe.

"You what?" Chloe's voice was so sharp it nearly shattered her coffee cup. "You're calling off the ceremony?"

"That's right."

"Are you insane? He's your fated mate!"

"Fated mates don't mark other women right before their ceremony," I said, calmly sipping my coffee. "And they certainly don't get another she-wolf pregnant with their pup."

Chloe gasped. "A pup?"

I showed her the photo of the lab report on my phone.

"That scheming bitch!" Chloe slammed her hand on the table. "She played you!"

"Probably," I shrugged. "But it doesn't matter anymore."

"Isla, you can't just give up. Damien loves you."

"Loves me?" I gave a bitter laugh. "Does someone who loves you mark another woman behind your back?"

Chloe fell silent.

"I've already accepted the invitation from the European Healers' Guild," I said, standing up. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

"So soon?"

"If I stay any longer, I'm afraid I'll do something I regret."

At eleven that night, I got back to the apartment building after an herb exchange.

The gathering was a success.

I’d met several healers from Europe, including a few Alphas I’d never seen before.

When the elevator doors opened, Damien was standing there.

His eyes were cold, his nostrils flaring slightly. "Where were you?"

"An herb exchange."

"With who?" he pressed.

"Some colleagues."

Damien stalked towards me, like a predator closing in on its prey. "Don't lie to me. I smell another male's scent on you. An Alpha's."

"So what if you do?"

A dangerous light flashed in his eyes. "Get away from me, and wash that scent off you."

"You don't get to order me around."

"I'm your fated mate!"

"No, you're not," I said, pushing past him. "You're Seraphina's."

I walked towards our apartment, Damien following close behind.

But instead of arguing, he went straight to the armchair by the fireplace, sat down, and closed his eyes.

I knew what he was doing.

The mind-link.

His expression softened, and I could feel the murmur of his thoughts through our strained bond.

The pup is going to be so strong, so healthy.

The pup.

He was already looking forward to it.

I turned to go to my room.

"Isla."

His voice stopped me.

"There's something about the ceremony I need to talk to you about."