She didn't go to the gathering place in the lower valley to find them.

She went because she was leaving in three weeks, and she'd wanted to go with Ethan for two years.

Every time she'd suggested it, he'd had somewhere else to be.

Now she went alone.

She saw them the moment she walked in.

They were sitting close, the way people sit when they've stopped being careful.

The table between them was covered in dishes — everything spiced, everything she liked.

He didn't eat spiced food.

He'd always told her it affected his sense of smell for tracking.

He was eating it now.

Neither of them had seen her.

Selene was laughing, and she picked up a piece of meat from her plate and held it to his mouth.

He took it.

She let her fingers brush his jaw when she pulled her hand back.

He didn't flinch.

He looked young.

That was the thing she couldn't stop staring at.

Ethan always looked controlled, self-contained, the Alpha's son who'd been raised to hold everything in.

But sitting across from her, watching her laugh, he looked like someone who hadn't learned yet to hide what he wanted.

"We should mark this," he said.

Low, like he was trying to sound casual and failing.

"The tavern. Together—"

Selene looked up.

She was looking directly at Elena.

Her expression flickered — surprise, then calculation, then something like satisfaction.

"Elena." Her voice carried.

"Are you following us?"

The room went quiet.

Ranked wolves, mid-bite, turned to look.

Ethan froze, his hand halfway to his wine cup.

Elena didn't move.

Didn't run.

Didn't let her wolf rise to the challenge in her voice.

"I'm here to eat," she said.

"And we're not bonded. Not anymore."

She walked to the counter, ordered from the menu — everything spiced, everything she'd denied herself for years.

Then she found a table with her back to them.

She could still hear them.

"When did you become so impatient?"

Selene's voice, teasing, intimate.

"I remember when you'd spend months planning surprises. The winter solstice, you spent three weeks tracking that white stag just to impress me."

"I was fifteen," Ethan said.

But he didn't sound dismissive.

He sounded nostalgic.

"Fifteen, twenty-five. You still know how to make someone feel chosen."

A pause.

The sound of her hand on his arm, familiar, proprietary.

"Why can't you do that for her?"

"She's not you."

Three words.

Simple.

Final.

Elena took a bite of the spiced meat.

It burned.

She kept eating.

She'd spent seven years telling herself she could earn that warmth.

That patience and care would eventually make her enough.

He'd just told her she never would be.

She finished her meal.

Paid in full.

Walked out without looking back.

The next morning, she went to the pack archives.

She found it in the third file.

Territory transfer application.

Alpine Pack, effective next moon.

Companion request attached.

Not her name.

Selene's.

She folded the record into her pocket.

Evidence, if she needed it.

Three weeks passed.

She filed the formal separation.

Resigned as Luna.

Arranged transport to the River Pack.

Ethan didn't believe any of it.

He sent gifts.

Messages through Kael.

He treated her departure like a mood that would pass.

She treated him like furniture.

The night before she left, she heard footsteps in the corridor.

His and hers, and the rhythm of his gait when he'd been drinking.

She opened the door before they reached it.

Ethan stopped.

Selene was beside him, her hand on his arm, her eyes bright with victory.

Behind them, Kael and two ranked wolves, carrying documents.

"Elena. We're discussing the Alpine transfer. You're invited."

"I declined."

"You don't decline pack business."

He stepped closer.

Wine on his breath.

Lilies on his collar.

"You attend. You participate. That's what a Luna does."

"I'm not your Luna."

Selene made a small sound — pity, or amusement.

"Elena, please. He's been generous, considering—"

"Considering what?"

"Considering you filed without warning. Some might call that abandonment."

Elena reached into her pocket.

Pulled out the transfer application.

Her name not on it.

Selene's name on it.

Dated two weeks before Elena ever filed.

"You were leaving me," she said.

"You just wanted me to wait quietly until you were ready."

Kael shifted.

The other wolves looked at the floor.

"You marked me because I looked like her. You kept me because she was gone. You planned to abandon me because she's back."

She folded the papers.

"The only difference is I left first."

Selene stepped forward.

Close enough to touch.

"Elena, you're not thinking clearly—"

She reached for Elena's arm.

Selene stumbled back before Elena even laid a finger on her.

She cried out, crumpled to the floor, holding her face.

"She hit me," Selene gasped. "She pushed me—"

Ethan caught her.

His eyes found Elena's — gold, furious, absolutely certain.

He stepped toward Elena.

She stepped back.

He didn't stop.

His hand came up — not to strike, to push, to clear the space between him and Selene.

Elena was in the way.

She was always in the way.

The wall hit her head before she knew she'd moved.

Stone. Cold.

The taste of copper in her mouth.

She raised her hand to her temple.

Pulled it back.

Saw the blood.

Ethan froze.

He looked at his hand.

At her.

At Selene, still crumpled, her eyes gleaming through her fingers.

Elena saw the moment he chose.

He turned back to her.

"Selene. Are you—"

Elena hit him.

The slap rang out, sharp and final.

Her bloody palm against his cheek.

The force of it turning his head.

"That was for the herb-cake," she said.

"For the lily petals."

"For believing her."

"You're not leaving," he said. "I don't accept—"

"You lost that right when you filed for Alpine."

She smiled.

This time it didn't hurt.

"Elena." His voice cracked. "Elena, don't—"

She walked away.

She reached the territory line.

And she cut the bond.

Not gently.

The silence was absolute.

She didn't look back.

She touched her temple.

The blood was drying.

The wound would heal by morning.

The bond wouldn't.

She was free.