In the corner next to Alpha Waylon’s desk was a makeshift den for a wolf pup, lined with soft pelts and scattered with various chew toys. Thalia’s gaze lingered on the scene, her mind easily conjuring images of him and that Delta, Emmie, playing with the pup in this space. When he noticed her gaze, Waylon quickly explained, "The pup belongs to one of the pack members. I’m just looking after it for a while."

Thalia found it almost laughable. Who in the pack would dare ask their Alpha to care for a pup? But she chose not to voice her thoughts. Eager to shift the conversation, Waylon asked why she had come to see him. Just as she was about to speak, there was a sharp knock on the door, and Emmie rushed in, her eyes wide with worry.

"Alpha Waylon," she said breathlessly, "Whiskers just got sick. I don’t know what to do."

Waylon’s attention snapped to her instantly. "What happened?" he asked, his voice softening in a way Thalia hadn’t heard in years.

"He just started whining and then—" Emmie’s voice trembled as she cradled the small wolf pup in her arms. Waylon stepped forward, gently taking the pup from her, his hands moving with a tenderness that made Thalia’s chest tighten. She watched as he soothed the pup, a few stray hairs clinging to his sleeve and collar, unnoticed by him.

"We should take him to the pack healer," Waylon decided, cradling the pup as if it were his own.

The scene sent a sharp pang through Thalia’s heart. It reminded her of the time she had fallen ill, her body burning with fever. When she had asked him to take her to the healer, he had dismissed her with a curt, "Ask one of the Deltas." Now, it was clear where she stood—lower than Emmie, and even lower than a pup.

Thalia had barely been in the room for three minutes before Waylon was ready to leave. This time, she couldn’t hold back. Her voice cut through the room, sharp and commanding. "Alpha Waylon."

He paused, turning to her with a raised brow, the pup still nestled in his arms. "Yes, Luna Thalia?"

The formal title felt like a slap, a reminder of the distance between them. Thalia straightened her shoulders, her gaze steady despite the storm raging inside her. "We need to talk. Now."

Waylon’s expression shifted, a flicker of irritation crossing his features. "Can it wait? Whiskers needs—"

"No," Thalia interrupted, her voice firm. "It can’t wait."

For a moment, the room was heavy with tension, the unspoken weight of their strained bond pressing down on them both. Waylon hesitated, glancing at Emmie, who stood silently by the door, her eyes darting between them. Finally, he sighed and handed the pup back to Emmie. "Take him to the healer. I’ll join you shortly."

Emmie nodded, casting a fleeting, almost apologetic look at Thalia before slipping out of the room. Once the door clicked shut, Waylon turned back to Thalia, his arms crossed. "What is it?"

Thalia met his gaze, her voice cold and measured. "We need to discuss our bond, Alpha Waylon. It’s time we put an end to this farce."

The words hung in the air, a challenge neither of them could ignore.

The tension in the den was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering resentment. Thalia stood in the corner, her arms crossed, her presence a quiet storm amidst the chaos. The realization finally hit the others in the room that she was still there, her aura as Luna commanding attention even in her silence. Waylon Daniels, Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, was about to speak when Emmie Anderson, a young Delta, turned her tear-streaked eyes toward Thalia.

“Luna,” Emmie began, her voice trembling, “I know you have something important to discuss with Alpha Daniels right now. But Whiskers is really sick, and if we don’t see the pack healer soon, it could be too late.”

Thalia’s jaw tightened. She hadn’t said a word, yet Emmie was already painting her as the villain. The wolf pup, Whiskers, whimpered softly in Emmie’s arms, its tiny body trembling. Thalia had never been fond of pups, but even she could see the urgency in the situation.

“You’ve never had a pup, so you wouldn’t understand,” Emmie pleaded, her voice desperate. “Whiskers is like my child. Please, just let us get him to the healer first.”

Thalia’s eyes flicked to Waylon, who stood there, his muscular frame tense, his expression a mixture of concern and reproach. His dark eyes met hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of guilt. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the cold detachment she had grown accustomed to.

“Luna,” Waylon said, his voice firm but tinged with impatience, “we can talk later when I get back.”

Thalia stepped forward, her gaze unwavering. “No need. I just have one thing to say.” Her voice was steady, though the tension in the room made it feel like the walls were closing in. “Grandma Lara wants us to come home for the pack’s Moon Festival dinner tomorrow.”

That was it. She had delivered the message, and now they could leave. Surprisingly, Waylon seemed momentarily taken aback by her straightforwardness. He looked at her as though he had expected something more—a fight, perhaps, or at least a display of the hurt he knew he had caused.

“That’s all?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

What else did he expect? A plea for him to stay? A reminder of the bond they once shared? Thalia’s expression remained impassive, though the weight of his betrayal pressed heavily on her chest.

“You should go,” she said, her tone calm but laced with finality. “Don’t delay taking Whiskers to the healer.”

Waylon hesitated, his gaze searching hers for something—anything—that might indicate she still cared. But Thalia’s mask was firmly in place, her walls impenetrable. In the end, it was Emmie’s insistence that finally spurred him into action. He turned away, his broad shoulders stiff as he followed Emmie out of the den, leaving Thalia alone in the suffocating silence.

As the door closed behind them, Thalia exhaled slowly, her hands trembling at her sides. The bond between them, once so strong, now felt like a frayed thread, unraveling with every passing moment. She could feel the sting of rejection, the ache of a mate bond that had been neglected and abused. But she refused to let it break her. She was Luna, after all, and she would endure.

That night, Alpha Waylon didn’t return to the den.

Around midnight, Luna Thalia received a friend request on her phone. The profile picture was an adorable wolf pup, instantly revealing who it was from. After accepting the request, the first message was a photo of Alpha Waylon gently stroking the pup’s fur.

"Sorry, the pup is really clingy."

His words carried the smug confidence of someone who knew he was pushing boundaries. Thalia chose not to reply and simply asked Emmie, the young Delta, to remind Alpha Waylon about tomorrow’s pack gathering. Emmie didn’t respond.

Thalia expected to see Alpha Waylon at the Daniels’ den the next day, but to her surprise, his car was parked outside her residence before she even set out.

"I came to pick you up," he said, his deep voice carrying the authority of an Alpha.

A ride was a ride, so she accepted. The passenger seat was spotless and spacious, indicating that Waylon had cleaned the car before coming to fetch her. Thalia leaned back and closed her eyes to relax. Occasionally, she felt his piercing gaze on her.

In the past, she would chatter endlessly whenever she was in the car with him. Now, without her constant stream of words, the silence was heavy, the tension between them almost tangible. Alpha Waylon gripped the steering wheel tightly, finally breaking the quiet.

"Luna, Whiskers was in pretty bad shape last night. I stayed at the pack healer’s, so I didn’t return to the den."

He was explaining why he hadn’t come home last night, which was unusual since the Alpha rarely felt the need to justify himself. In the past, he’d grow annoyed if she asked too many questions. Now that she wasn’t asking, he was offering explanations.

"Yeah, I know. Someone already told me," Thalia replied, her tone cool and detached.

"Who told you?" His voice was tense, his Alpha tone creeping in despite his attempt to sound casual.

"The pup’s caretaker," Thalia answered honestly.

Alpha Waylon gave her a cautious glance. "You mean Emmie? She’s a new Delta in the pack. She found Whiskers near the pack’s training grounds and couldn’t take him back to her den, so..."

"Yeah, I got it."

Thalia wasn’t interested in his explanation. She cut him off, meeting his gaze with a hint of impatience, her Luna aura subtly asserting itself.

"Luna, why aren’t you angry anymore?" he asked, seeming genuinely puzzled, his Alpha tone softening slightly.

Thalia didn’t respond immediately. Her wolf stirred faintly in the back of her mind, a quiet reminder of the bond that still lingered between them, frayed and fragile. But she pushed the thought aside, her expression unreadable as she turned to look out the window, the towering trees of the Silver Moon Pack territory blurring past.