Eliana POV

Attendance at the monthly gala was not a request; it was a mandate.

I anchored myself in the shadowed corner of the ballroom, clutching a glass of lukewarm water like a lifeline. From my vantage point, I watched Catalina hold court. I hated to admit it, but she was radiant—a diamond designed to draw blood. She knew exactly how to play the game.

It didn't take long for her to find her target.

She spotted me and glided across the floor, her entourage of sycophantic Omegas trailing in her wake like a silk train.

"Eliana," she purred, her voice dripping with faux concern. "You look... tired. You really should rest more. It must be exhausting, standing on the sidelines watching us live."

"I'm fine, Catalina," I said, my voice tight as I turned to retreat.

She grabbed my arm. Her manicured nails didn't just rest there; they dug into my skin, sharp enough to draw a flinch.

"Jax told me everything, you know," she whispered, leaning in close. "How he pitied you. How he waited for you to shift, but you were just... broken."

My stomach turned, acid rising in my throat. "Excuse me."

I pulled away, stumbling slightly as I fled toward the terrace doors. The night air was cool, a sharp contrast to the suffocating heat of the ballroom.

*Jax always loved strong women.*

Catalina's voice invaded my head, bypassing my ears entirely. She had forced a Mind-Link connection, a violation that felt like a spike driven into my temples.

*He told me about the time he skipped your birthday to train with the warriors,* she continued, her mental voice echoing with cruel clarity. *He said he needed to be around real wolves.*

I froze, my hands gripping the stone railing. I remembered that birthday. Jax had told me he was sick with the flu.

*And that time you twisted your ankle?* Catalina continued, the venom in her thoughts seeping into my own mind. *He didn't carry you back because he was worried. He did it because his father was watching. He laughed about how heavy you were later.*

The air left my lungs. The memories I cherished—the moments I thought were irrefutable proof of his love—were being dismantled, brick by brick.

*He loves me, Eliana. He sacrificed his chance to study abroad just to be near my pack. He's been planning this for years.*

Tears pricked my eyes, hot and stinging, but I refused to let them fall. It was all a lie. The foundation of my entire life had been built on sand.

*Eliana?*

Jax's voice cut into the link, overlaying Catalina's torment.

*Where are you? Catalina is looking for you.*

A bitter laugh trapped itself in my chest. He had no idea she was mentally torturing me. Or perhaps, he simply didn't care enough to notice the difference.

I looked back through the glass doors. I saw Jax scanning the crowded room, his expression frantic, his eyes darting wildly.

Then, his gaze landed on Catalina.

Instantly, his face relaxed. The tension drained from his shoulders. He wasn't looking for me because he was worried *about* me. He was relieved because *she* was safe.

That was the truth I needed.

I severed the Mind-Link. It felt like slamming a heavy iron door, shutting out the noise, the lies, and the pain.

I looked at Jax one last time through the barrier of the glass. He wasn't the boy I loved. He was a stranger wearing a familiar face. A liar.

"Goodbye, Jax," I whispered to the cold glass, my breath fogging the surface for a fleeting second before fading away.

Eliana POV

I was zipping up the last of my duffel bags when Catalina walked into my room. She didn't knock.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked, leaning against the doorframe with a smug, satisfied tilt to her head.

"Get out," I said, yanking the zipper closed with finality.

"Jax is downstairs," she said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "He's worried about you. It's pathetic, really."

She walked toward me, her eyes flashing. "You need to understand something. He is mine. Even if you leave, you are a threat. Your scent... it still lingers on him."

"I rejected him," I said, my voice flat. "The bond is broken."

"Not enough," she hissed.

Then, she moved.

Her hand lashed out, shoving me hard.

I stumbled backward, my feet tangling in the plush rug. Gravity took over. I fell, my head cracking against the sharp corner of my silver-plated vanity table.

*Pain.*

White-hot, searing agony exploded in my skull. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air—acrid and metallic. Silver poisoning. For a wolf, it was instant, debilitating torture.

"Jax!" Catalina screamed, her voice pitching into a perfect, fake shriek of terror. "Help! Jax, help! Eliana fell!"

Thundering footsteps echoed in the hall. Jax burst into the room.

I was lying on the floor, blood pooling around my head, my vision swimming in dark spots. The silver was sizzling, burning its way into my bloodstream.

Jax looked at me.

Then he looked at Catalina, who was crouching in the corner, sobbing into her hands.

"She tried to attack me, Jax! She went crazy and then she slipped!"

Jax didn't check my pulse. He didn't notice the sick, sweet scent of burning skin rising from my temple. He rushed to Catalina.

"Are you hurt?" he asked frantically, scanning her body for injuries that didn't exist.

"I'm so scared," she wailed, burying her face in his chest.

I lay there, dying. And he was comforting her.

The last thread of hope in my heart snapped. It wasn't a loud noise. It was a quiet, final click.

"Get the pack doctor," Jax barked at a guard hovering in the hallway.

Then, he scooped Catalina up in his arms. "I'm taking you to my room. You're in shock."

He walked out.

He stepped over my legs to get out the door.

I closed my eyes. The pain was excruciating, but the clarity was absolute.

He didn't care. He never would.

Against the odds, and perhaps against my own weary wishes, I survived.

The pack doctor was a gentle-handed Beta who spent hours flushing the silver from my compromised system. Though he saved my life, the burn on my temple would remain forever—a jagged souvenir of betrayal.

Two days later, Jax appeared in the doorway of the infirmary.

"Catalina is beside herself," was the first thing out of his mouth.

I stared up at the sterile white ceiling, counting the cracks to keep my temper in check. "Is she?"

"She claims you attacked her," Jax continued, stepping into the room. "But... I told her I know you, Eliana. I know you aren't violent."

He sighed, the sound heavy with a burden I hadn't asked him to carry, and sat on the edge of my narrow bed. "Look, I brought you something."

He pulled a small, velvet box from his pocket and snapped it open. Inside, nesting on the dark fabric, lay a necklace with a crescent moon pendant.

It glinted cold and white in the infirmary light.

"It's silver," I breathed, my voice flat. "I am allergic to silver, Jax. We all are. I just spent forty-eight hours dying from it."

He froze, his expression faltering. "It's... coated. It's rhodium-plated. It's safe, Eliana. It's just a gesture. To make peace."

He didn't even know. He didn't think. He was so desperate to fix the surface that he couldn't see the rot underneath.

"I don't want your peace offerings," I said, forcing my body upright. The room spun violently, gray spots dancing in my vision, but I held my ground.

"I submitted my request to the Elders this morning," I told him, my voice gaining strength. "I'm leaving the pack."

"You can't," Jax snapped, his voice rising in panic. "You're an Omega. You'll go Rogue. You'll die out there."

"I'm already dying here," I replied softly.

Before he could argue—before he could spin another web of excuses—the sirens blared.

*ROGUES! ROGUES AT THE NORTHERN BORDER!*

The sound vibrated through the floorboards. Jax's head snapped up, the Alpha instinct instantly overriding the boy who brought bad gifts.

"Stay here," he ordered. Then, without a backward glance, he bolted.

I swung my legs out of bed. They were shaky, trembling like new colts, but I managed to stand.

Outside, the world had erupted into chaos. I could hear the screams, the guttural howls of shifting wolves, and the clash of bodies.

I limped down the hall to my room.

It had been desecrated.

Catalina had been here. My clothes were shredded, my bedding slashed. But amidst the wreckage, I found what I was looking for: a hidden box of letters Jax had written me when we were children.

*To my future Luna.*

I took a lighter from my desk drawer. With trembling hands, I tossed the letters into the metal trash can and flicked the wheel.

The flame caught instantly. It danced hungry and bright, consuming the ink, the paper, and the lies that had bound me to this place.

I watched them burn until they were nothing but gray ash.

"Goodbye, Silver Moon," I whispered into the smoke.

I grabbed my go-bag. The chaos of the attack was my perfect cover.

While the pack fought for its life at the northern border, I slipped unnoticed out the southern gate.

I stepped into the woods. I embraced the dark. And I turned my face toward the distant, artificial glow of the city lights of New York.