Laughter and whispers filled the grand hall, wrapping around me like a suffocating fog. My skin burned, a heat so intense it crawled up my neck and into my skull.

I could hear the voices—harsh, amused, pitiful.

"Did you see that?"

"The Luna? Dressed like that?"

"Not Luna anymore, I’d bet."

"He stripped her, right in front of everyone. Goddess, how shameful."

I couldn’t move.

I couldn’t breathe.

The thin slip I wore did little to protect me from the biting cold of the room, from the weight of all those eyes pressing against my exposed skin. My arms wrapped around myself instinctively, but there was no hiding. No escape.

And then—warmth.

A heavy fabric draped over my shoulders. A scent of pine and steel.

I turned my head slowly, my body still locked in place.

The Gamma.

His eyes held something foreign. Something I wasn’t used to seeing. Not pity. Not amusement. Not cruelty.

Concern.

He stood beside me, his body stiff as if expecting a fight. His hands hesitated on my shoulders before dropping to his sides.

A murmur rippled through the crowd, sharp as a dagger.

"Gamma Damon?" Someone gasped. "What is he doing?"

"Helping her?" Another scoffed. "Why?"

I clutched the jacket tighter, swallowing hard. It was thick, made for a warrior, smelling of sweat and earth and something safe.

The moment felt frozen in time. But then, Killian moved.

His boots clicked against the polished floor as he stepped forward, his silver eyes burning with a fury so intense it could have set fire to the hall.

He was still angry. Still humiliated. But now, his rage had found a new target.

His gaze locked onto Damon, and for a split second, the air grew heavier. The tension was suffocating, pressing against my already bruised pride.

Damon held his ground.

For me.

But Killian didn’t speak. He simply clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring as his hands curled into fists at his sides. His fury wasn’t for Damon alone.

No—I was still the center of his storm.

He turned back to me, his voice laced with quiet venom. "You are no longer my Luna."

The words cut deeper than his actions ever could.

My lips parted, but no sound came out.

I had thought the worst had already happened.

I was wrong.

Killian lifted his chin, his voice carrying across the hall. "From this moment forward, Sienna is stripped of her title. She is no longer recognized as the Luna of this pack."

The final blow.

A weight crushed my chest, stealing the last bit of air from my lungs.

He had taken everything.

The murmurs started again, louder this time. The whispers that had once been contained now spilled into full-fledged mockery.

I took a step back.

Then another.

The floor beneath me felt unsteady. My mind spun.

My body moved before my brain could fully process it.

One step.

Another.

Each slow movement carried a broken piece of me away from that hall, away from the burning humiliation, away from the man who had just shattered me completely.

I didn’t run.

I didn’t beg.

I walked. Slowly. Deliberately.

The Gamma didn’t stop me.

No one did.

I kept my head high, even as my heart fractured inside my chest.

---

I wasn’t sure where I was going.

The halls blurred as I moved, my legs carrying me forward on instinct. The heavy jacket draped over me was the only thing keeping me from completely falling apart.

Why?

Why did he do this?

The question burned in my mind, a poisonous thought I couldn’t shake.

I had been careful. I had never given Killian a reason to hate me. I had done my duty. I had stood by his side, obeyed his rules, supported him as his mate, his Luna.

Yet, in the span of a few minutes, he had undone everything.

All because of a dress.

My hands gripped the jacket tighter.

No.

Not just a dress.

Her dress.

That realization made my breath hitch.

I slowed my steps, my body growing colder despite the warmth wrapped around me.

If this was just about the gown… if this was just about me accidentally wearing something that belonged to another woman…

Then why had his anger been so personal?

Why had he looked at me like I had betrayed him?

I felt the answer creeping up my throat like bile.

And then, I heard them.

Two she-wolves stood near the corner of the hallway, their voices hushed, but not enough to keep me from catching every word.

"Did you see how he reacted?" One of them whispered.

"Of course I did. Goddess, it was embarrassing. But honestly, are you surprised?"

"Not really." A soft laugh. "I mean, he never really got over her."

"Right? He tried, I think. But in the end, she still owns his heart."

The words struck me harder than any physical blow ever could.

He never got over her.

I clenched my hands, the fabric of the jacket twisting between my fingers.

It wasn’t just about the dress.

It was about her.

His first love.

The woman who wasn’t here. The woman who didn’t even need to be present to hold a grip on him.

Killian hadn’t just stripped me of my dignity tonight.

He had proven something I had been too blind to see before.

I was never truly his.

Because his heart never belonged to me.

I turned away from the voices, my chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths.

The humiliation still burned. The betrayal still stung.

I barely remembered how I got back to my room.

One moment, I was standing in the hallway, my heart shattering with every whispered word.

The next, I was here—locked behind the heavy wooden door, my back pressed against it as my knees threatened to give out beneath me.

My breath came in sharp, uneven gasps.

The humiliation of the ceremony still burned my skin, but it was nothing compared to the deeper ache clawing at my chest.

Had he ever loved me?

The thought was like ice against my veins.

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressing a trembling hand against my mouth.

I had been his mate. His Luna.

But had I ever really been his choice?

Had I been anything more than a replacement for the one he truly wanted?

The answer was suffocating.

And I hated that deep down, I already knew it.

---

I had always known something was missing.

There were moments—fleeting, small—that I had ignored.

Moments when his touch felt obligatory instead of eager.

Moments when his eyes would drift over me, not with adoration, but with something else.

Emptiness. Distance.

As if, in his mind, he was somewhere else.

With someone else.

I had convinced myself it was just stress. That Killian had too many burdens on his shoulders. That he simply struggled to express love the way others did.

But now…

Now, I saw it for what it was.

I was never the one he wanted.

A bitter laugh caught in my throat.

How had I been so blind?

Every touch, every glance, every night spent beside him—it had all been a lie.

He had never belonged to me.

His heart was still hers.

---

The room was suffocating.

I needed air.

The walls felt too close, pressing in, trapping me with thoughts I didn’t want to face.

My legs felt weak, but I forced them to move, dragging myself toward the window.

Cool night air brushed against my heated skin as I gripped the frame, my fingers digging into the wood.

I sucked in a breath, willing the nausea in my stomach to settle.

And then—I saw them.

Killian stood in the courtyard below, his back to me.

His stance was tense, his shoulders squared.

But he wasn’t alone.

She was there.

Even in the dim moonlight, I recognized her instantly.

Her hair, dark and silken, cascaded down her back in waves. She stood close—too close—her head tilted slightly as she gazed up at him.

Killian was speaking.

His voice was too soft for me to hear, but I saw the way he leaned in. The way his lips moved with quiet, urgent words meant only for her.

And then, he smiled.

Not a forced, public smile.

Not the cold, sharp expression he had worn when looking at me.

No—this was different.

This was real.

Something deep inside me twisted, sharp and unbearable.

He had never looked at me like that.

Not once.

I felt my grip tighten on the window frame, my nails biting into the wood.

A shuddering breath escaped my lips.

I had been a fool.

I had spent so long believing that if I just tried harder, if I just proved myself, Killian would see me.

That one day, he would love me the way a mate should.

But I was never meant to be his.

I pressed a hand to my chest, my fingers curling over the fabric of my dress.

The pain wasn’t sharp anymore.

It was dull. Heavy.

Like a weight settling inside me that would never leave.

I forced myself to look away from the scene below, stepping back from the window.

Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

He had taken enough from me already.

Days passed.

I stopped counting them.

Morning and night blurred together, each one bringing nothing but a heavier weight in my chest.

The world outside my door moved on without me.

I didn’t eat.

I didn’t leave my room.

And most of all, I never heard a single word from him.

No apology.

No explanation.

No hesitation in the choice he had made.

I supposed I had my answer.

The love I thought we had—the love I had clung to like a fool—had never even existed.

---

The first knock came on the third day.

It was soft at first. Careful.

Then firmer, more persistent.

“Luna.”

I flinched.

It was Gamma Rowan.

The only one who had dared to show me kindness in the middle of all this.

His voice was gentle, but beneath it was something else. Worry.

“I know you’re in there,” he said, his tone edged with frustration. “You can’t keep doing this.”

But I could.

And I would.

I turned my face away from the door, curling deeper into the sheets.

There was nothing to say.

He knocked again.

And again.

“Please,” he murmured. “At least eat something. Let me bring you food.”

I stared blankly at the wall.

He sighed heavily, the sound filled with disappointment.

But he didn’t leave.

Minutes passed in silence before he spoke again.

“I know you’re hurting.”

My fingers clenched into the sheets.

“Let me help,” he said. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

A sharp, bitter laugh nearly escaped my lips.

But I was alone.

Hadn’t that been made painfully clear?

Killian hadn’t come.

He hadn’t knocked on this door.

He hadn’t even asked if I was still breathing.

He didn’t care.

Rowan lingered a few more seconds before he finally sighed again.

Then, the sound of his footsteps faded down the hall.

I waited until they were gone before I let out a shaky breath.

I hadn’t answered him.

And I never would.

There was nothing left to say.

---

That night, as darkness wrapped around the pack house, I made my choice.

If I was nothing to him…

Then I would make myself feel nothing.

I wasn’t going to beg for love that was never real.

I wasn’t going to drown in pain that was never deserved.

I was done.

Silently, I rose from my bed.

The air was cold against my skin as I slipped into the hall, my feet barely making a sound.

The corridors were empty at this hour, the world around me silent as I moved toward the healer’s chamber.

The door was unlocked.

Of course it was.

Healers needed to be ready for anything—emergencies, late-night injuries, warriors returning from battle.

But they never expected someone to come for this.

My fingers trembled slightly as I moved through the shelves, searching for what I needed.

It didn’t take long to find it.

A small vial, filled with a liquid so dark it was almost black.

My breath hitched.

This was it.

The bond-breaker.

Not strong enough to sever a mate bond entirely, but strong enough to strip away its effects.

To numb it.

To block me from ever feeling the pull toward him again.

His touch wouldn’t burn.

His voice wouldn’t send warmth through my chest.

His rejection wouldn’t shatter me anymore.

I uncorked the vial.

The scent alone was strong—bitter, metallic, tinged with something sharp that stung my throat.

I hesitated.

Not out of fear.

Not out of doubt.

But because some part of me—the broken, foolish part—was still whispering that maybe… just maybe… Killian would come for me.

That he would stop me.

That he would finally care.

But he wouldn’t.

He never would.

And I refused to be a slave to this pain any longer.

I raised the vial to my lips—

A hand clamped around my wrist.

I gasped, my body jerking as the healer, Elder Maera, yanked me back.

Her eyes were wild with alarm.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

I didn’t answer.

Her fingers tightened around me, her nails digging into my skin. “You don’t understand what that will do to you.”

“I understand perfectly,” I whispered.

Her jaw clenched. “This isn’t the answer.”

But I was done listening.

With a sudden jerk, I pulled free from her grip—

And drank.

The liquid scorched its way down my throat.

I choked, my eyes widening as pain erupted in my chest.