I can't breathe in here anymore.

The workshop walls press in on me, Emberly's half-finished clay form leering from the modeling stand like a monument to my humiliation. My fingers are still caked with dried clay, my back aches from hours hunched over that cursed sculpture, and the mate bond in my chest feels like a festering wound that won't heal.

I need to run.

The forest calls to me as I slip out the back entrance of the packhouse, my wolf already pushing against my skin, desperate for release. The moment I'm far enough from prying eyes, I let her take over. The shift ripples through me—bones cracking and reforming, fur sprouting along my arms and legs. The pain is familiar, almost comforting compared to the agony in my heart.

My wolf bursts free, and we run.

The wind tears through our fur as we race deeper into Silvermoon territory, past the training grounds, past the northern border markers, into the thick pine forest where the shadows grow long and the air smells of earth and moss. Here, I can almost forget. Almost pretend I'm not a Luna whose mate despises her, not a woman forced to immortalize her replacement in clay.

We run until our lungs burn, until the packhouse is miles behind us, until—

A growl splits the air.

My wolf skids to a halt, ears flattening as six massive shapes emerge from the tree line. Rogues. Their scent hits me like rotting meat—unwashed, feral, wrong. The largest one, a scarred gray male with a chunk missing from his ear, steps forward with a snarl that shows too many teeth.

"Well, well." His voice is rough, almost human despite his wolf form. "The precious Luna, all alone in the woods. How convenient."

My hackles rise as I back up slowly, calculating escape routes. But they're already fanning out, surrounding me in a practiced formation. These aren't random rogues—they're coordinated. Hunting.

"The Luna needs to learn her place," Scarface sneers, and then they attack.

I fight like hell. My wolf is strong—Luna blood runs fierce—and I manage to sink my teeth into one rogue's shoulder, taste his blood on my tongue before another slams into my side. Claws rake across my ribs, tearing through fur and flesh. I yelp, twisting to snap at my attacker, but there are too many.

A massive paw catches me across the face, and stars explode behind my eyes. I hit the ground hard, dirt filling my mouth as I try to scramble up. Pain lances through my shoulder—dislocated, my wolf whimpers—and then they're on me again.

Claws. Teeth. The metallic taste of my own blood.

"That's enough." Scarface's command stops the assault. I'm left panting in the dirt, my right shoulder screaming, deep gashes burning across my ribs. "She's learned her lesson. Let's go."

They melt back into the shadows as quickly as they appeared, leaving me broken and bleeding in the pine needles.

I don't know how long I lie there. Long enough for the blood to start drying, for the pain to sharpen from shock into pure agony. My wolf whines, struggling to shift back, but I force us to hold the form—it's the only thing keeping me mobile enough to drag myself home.

The journey back is a nightmare of pain and determination. Every step sends fire through my dislocated shoulder, every breath pulls at the claw marks across my ribs. But I keep moving, one paw in front of the other, until finally—finally—the packhouse lights appear through the trees.

I shift back at the tree line, crying out as the transformation jolts my injuries. My human form is worse—blood streaming down my side, my right arm hanging at a sickening angle, bruises already blooming across my face.

The back door is unlocked. I stumble through it, leaving bloody handprints on the wall as I make my way toward the main hall. I need the healer. I need—

Screaming.

I round the corner into the entrance hall and freeze.

Emberly is sprawled on the marble floor in a pool of what looks like blood, her hands clutching her stomach as she wails. Pack members crowd around her, their faces white with shock. And Alexander—Alexander is kneeling beside her, his face twisted in anguish.

Then he sees me.

His eyes go wide, taking in my bloodied state, and for one heartbeat I think he might actually care. But then Emberly's trembling finger points directly at me.

"She—she attacked me!" Emberly's voice breaks on a sob. "In the forest—the Luna—she was so jealous, she—" Her whole body shudders. "My baby. Oh goddess, my baby!"

"No." The word comes out as barely a whisper. "No, I was attacked. Rogues—"

But Alexander is already rising, his face transforming into something I've never seen before. Pure, incandescent rage.

"You murdered my child." His voice is so low, so deadly, that every wolf in the hall instinctively backs away. His Alpha aura explodes outward, crushing down on me until my knees buckle. "You murdered my heir."

"Alexander, please—" I can barely speak through the pressure of his command. "I didn't—"

"SILENCE!" His roar shakes the chandelier. "You jealous, barren wretch. You couldn't give me children, so you destroyed the one I could have?"

I'm on my knees now, my dislocated shoulder screaming, blood pooling beneath me on the pristine marble. Through the haze of pain and his crushing aura, I see Emberly watching me. And just for a second—just one brief, terrible second—she smiles.

The great hall has never felt so much like a colosseum.

Alexander's hand is iron around my uninjured arm as he drags me through the double doors. My dislocated shoulder screams with every jarring step, blood still trickling down my side from the claw marks, but his grip doesn't loosen. If anything, it tightens.

The pack is already assembled—word travels fast when there's a scandal. Hundreds of eyes turn toward us, and the whispers start immediately. A wave of sound that crashes over me like broken glass.

"Kneel." Alexander's Alpha command slams into me with the force of a physical blow.

My legs buckle before I can even think to resist. My knees hit the marble floor hard enough to crack, pain shooting up through my thighs. I bite down on my tongue to keep from crying out, tasting copper.

"Members of Silvermoon Pack." Alexander's voice rings through the hall, amplified by his Alpha authority. "You all know Audrey Freeman. My Luna. My mate." He pauses, and the silence is suffocating. "Tonight, she has proven herself unworthy of both titles."

Murmurs ripple through the crowd. I try to lift my head, to speak, but his aura presses down harder. My wolf is completely silent inside me—not submissive, but broken. Shattered.

"She attacked Emberly Nelson in the forest." Alexander's words are precise, cutting. "Attacked a pregnant she-wolf out of jealousy and spite. And because of her actions, my heir—my child—is dead."

The gasps are immediate. Someone in the back lets out a sob. I can feel their judgment settling over me like a shroud.

"No." I force the word out through gritted teeth. "I was attacked. Rogues—six of them—"

"SILENCE!" Alexander roars, and his Alpha command crushes down so hard that black spots dance across my vision. "You will not speak unless given permission."

Movement at the edge of my vision. Emberly is being helped into the hall by two pack warriors, her face pale and tear-streaked, one hand still pressed protectively over her stomach. She looks fragile. Devastated. Perfect.

Alexander immediately moves to her side, cradling her against his chest. The tenderness in his touch—the tenderness that used to be mine—makes something inside me crack.

"Look at her," Emberly whispers, but her voice carries through the silent hall. "Look at what she did to me. To our baby." Her shoulders shake with sobs. "I just wanted to talk to her, to make peace, and she—she shifted and—"

She breaks off into tears, burying her face in Alexander's chest. He strokes her hair, murmuring comfort, and I realize with sudden, horrible clarity: No one is going to believe me.

Footsteps echo on the marble. I recognize them before I even see her.

Elena Edwards—Alexander's mother, former Luna, and the woman who has made it clear from day one that I was never good enough for her son. She sweeps forward in a gown of deep purple, her silver hair pulled back in a severe bun, her face carved from ice.

"This has gone on long enough." Her voice is clipped, authoritative. "Alexander, you have been too lenient with this girl. Seven years she has been Luna, and what has she given this pack? No heirs. No strength. No loyalty." She turns to face me, her gray eyes cold as winter. "She is a disgrace to the Edwards name."

"Mother—" Alexander starts, but Elena raises one elegant hand.

"I call for a formal stripping." The words ring out like a death sentence. "Strip her of her Luna title. Strip her of her assets. Strip her of the marking that binds her to this pack and to your bloodline. She is unfit to bear the Edwards name."

The pack's response is immediate. Voices rise in agreement, in condemnation. Someone shouts "Murderer!" Another voice calls me barren. The words pile on top of each other until they're just noise—cruel, cutting noise that tears at what's left of my heart.

Alexander looks at me. Really looks at me. And I see nothing in his eyes. No recognition of the girl who carved him a wooden rabbit when we were prisoners together. No memory of the woman who donated blood to save his life. Just cold, absolute judgment.

"So be it," he says quietly.

Something inside me breaks. Not cracks. Not bends. Breaks completely.

I force myself to stand. Every muscle screams in protest, my shoulder grinding in its socket, blood running fresh down my ribs. But I stand. Alexander's Alpha aura pushes down harder, trying to force me back to my knees, but I lock my legs and refuse to fall.

"Fine." My voice comes out steady. Eerily calm. "If that's what you want, Alexander."

I meet his eyes, and for just a second, I see something flicker there. Uncertainty? Regret? But it's gone before I can name it.

I take a breath. Then another. The formal words rise up from some deep, primal place—words every wolf knows, words that can never be taken back.

"I, Audrey Freeman," I begin, and my voice rings clear through the hall, "reject you, Alpha Alexander Edwards, as my fated mate."

The pain hits immediately.

It's like someone has reached into my chest and torn out my heart with bare hands. The mate bond—seven years of connection, of shared dreams and broken promises—rips apart with a searing agony that drops me back to my knees. I hear Alexander cry out, see him stumble, his hand flying to his chest.

But through the pain, through the tears streaming down my face, I feel something else.

Freedom.

"I accept your rejection." Alexander's voice is ragged, breathless. His face is twisted with pain, but his eyes—his eyes are still hard. Still furious. "You are no longer my mate. No longer my Luna. You are nothing to this pack."

The bond snaps completely. The absence of it is so profound that for a moment I can't breathe, can't think. My wolf lets out one long, anguished howl that echoes through my soul.

Then silence.

I look up at Alexander through my tears, at Emberly still wrapped in his arms, at Elena's satisfied smile, at the pack that has already condemned me.

And I smile.

It's a broken, terrible smile, but it's mine.

"You'll regret this," I whisper. Not a threat. A promise. "When you finally remember the truth, you'll regret this for the rest of your life."

Then I turn and walk out of the great hall, leaving bloody footprints on the pristine marble, leaving behind seven years of pain and hope and shattered dreams.

Leaving behind the mate who was supposed to protect me but became my destroyer instead.