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."

I stopped and turned, my face a cold mask. "What is it now?"

"It's about the Rite of the Moon Spring." He opened his eyes, and those deep blue pools held an undeniable command. "I need to postpone it."

"Why." It wasn't a question.

"Seraphina's pregnancy is unstable. The healer said the pure energy of the Moon Spring would be good for her. So..."

He paused, as if searching for the right words. "I've decided it's better if she has it."

Let her have it.

He said it so casually, as if he were just rescheduling a meeting.

That was the highest honor for a Luna, to receive the pack's blessing.

It was the sacred moment we had dreamed of together.

My heart was numb.

I couldn't even feel the pain anymore.

I answered in the calmest voice I could manage. "Fine."

My calmness seemed to unnerve him. "You... don't have anything else to say?"

"No."

"...Good." A flicker of relief crossed his face, as if he'd expected a bigger fight.

He then continued, his tone all business. "I'm taking Seraphina to a private retreat in the Rockies. Handle the ceremony preparations. Don't bother me with the details unless the world is ending."

He cut the link.

I walked out to the balcony.

It used to be my herb garden, filled with rare plants I'd cultivated for the future of our pack.

I had imagined using these herbs to heal our people, to protect our home.

Damien had never set foot out here.

He said he wasn't interested in "all these flowers and weeds."

Now, they had lost their meaning, too.

I started working, one by one, uprooting the plants I had so carefully nurtured, the sharp snap of roots and the damp scent of earth filling the air.

It was a funeral for a future that was now dead and buried.

Each one represented a betrayed hope.

When the last Stardust Bloom was in its box, I took out my phone and opened the calendar.

On the date I had marked countless times for the "Rite of the Moon Spring," I drew a heavy, red X.

The countdown: twelve days.