I woke to the steady rhythm of breathing beside me—deep, peaceful, alive. My eyes flew open, heart hammering against my ribs as I turned to find Tobias sleeping peacefully next to me, his face unmarked by illness, his body strong and whole beneath the morning light filtering through our bedroom curtains.

For a moment, pure joy flooded through me. The mate bond hummed between us, warm and complete, carrying the gentle current of his dreams. He was here. He was healthy. The cancer, the machines, that horrible flatline—it had all been some terrible nightmare.

But then reality crashed back. The Moon Goddess. My wish. The truth I now carried like a stone in my chest: Tobias's heart belonged to another, and I had six months to set him free before fate claimed him anyway.

I slipped from the bed carefully, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. Tobias stirred, his hand reaching across the sheets to where I'd been lying.

"Sky?" His voice was thick with sleep, and through our bond I felt his confusion at my absence. "Come back to bed."

The warmth in his tone nearly broke my resolve. How many mornings had I treasured exactly this—his sleepy voice calling me back to his arms, the lazy contentment of dawn hours spent wrapped together? But I couldn't. Not anymore.

"I need to shower," I said, not turning around. If I looked at him—really looked at those brown eyes that had watched over me since childhood—I'd crumble.

"We could shower together." The suggestion carried a hint of playful desire that once would have had me melting back into his embrace.

Instead, I wrapped my robe tighter around myself. "I'm already late for my morning run with the patrol team."

Lie. I had no such plans. But I felt his hurt through the bond—a sharp pang that made my chest ache in response.

"Since when do you run with the patrol?" Tobias sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist. Even now, even knowing what I had to do, my traitorous body responded to the sight of him. "Sky, what's wrong? You feel... distant."

I forced myself to meet his eyes, schooling my expression into something neutral. "Nothing's wrong. I just think we've been spending too much time together lately. We both have responsibilities."

The words tasted like ash in my mouth, but I watched them land like physical blows. Tobias's face went carefully blank—his Alpha mask sliding into place—but the bond betrayed his pain.

"I see." His voice was quiet, controlled. "Of course. You're right."

I fled to the bathroom before I could take it back.

The pack meeting that afternoon felt like walking through a minefield. I sat in my usual seat beside Tobias at the head of the conference table, hyperaware of every brush of his arm against mine, every concerned glance he sent my way. The other pack members discussed border patrols and upcoming ceremonies, but my attention fractured when Beta Kenzie mentioned a familiar name.

"Serenity Walsh returned from her studies in Europe yesterday," he reported, his gaze flicking between Tobias and me. "She's requested permission to rejoin pack activities."

My heart stopped. Through the bond, I felt Tobias's sharp intake of breath, the way his pulse quickened at her name. Even now, even as my mate, the mere mention of her affected him.

"Of course," Tobias said, his voice carefully neutral. "She's always welcome in pack territory."

But I caught the way his hands clenched on the table, the subtle shift in his scent that spoke of old longing. The mate bond carried whispers of his thoughts—memories of a beautiful she-wolf with golden hair and a laugh like music, the one who'd left for her graduate studies just as our own relationship was beginning.

The meeting continued around me, but my mind was already spinning with plans. If Serenity was back, if she was the one Tobias truly loved, then I had work to do. I needed to find out where she was staying, what her interests were now, how I could orchestrate chances for them to reconnect.

It would tear me apart, but it was what he deserved. What they both deserved.

That evening, I found myself standing in Tobias's office doorway, watching him review pack reports. The lamplight cast warm shadows across his face, highlighting the strong line of his jaw, the concentration in his dark eyes. My Alpha. My mate. The man I was about to lose all over again.

"We need to talk about the new security protocols," I said, stepping into the room with manufactured confidence.

Tobias looked up, hope flickering in his expression. "Of course. I've been thinking the same thing."

But instead of the collaborative discussion he expected, I launched into criticism. "Your border patrol rotations are inefficient. You're wasting resources on redundant coverage while leaving gaps in the eastern quadrant."

His brow furrowed. "Sky, we discussed this last month. You agreed the current system was working well."

"That was before I realized how poorly thought out it actually was." Each word was a knife I twisted deeper. "Maybe if you spent less time on sentiment and more time on strategy, we wouldn't have these problems."

Tobias stood slowly, his Alpha presence filling the room. Through our bond, I felt his confusion shifting to hurt, then to something harder. "What is this really about?"

"This is about you making decisions based on emotion instead of logic," I pressed on, hating myself with every syllable. "About you being too soft to make the hard choices this pack needs."

His eyes flashed—not with anger, but with deep, wounded bewilderment. "Skyler, what's happening? This morning, the distance, and now—"

"Nothing's happening," I snapped. "Maybe I'm just finally seeing things clearly."

Tobias stepped toward me, his hand reaching out. "Let me in. Through the bond. Let me feel what you're feeling, and we can work through this together."

The mate bond stretched between us, warm and inviting, offering the connection that had always been our anchor. For a moment, I almost gave in. Almost let him feel the love and desperation and sacrifice that drove every cruel word.

Instead, I slammed my mental walls up with brutal force, severing our connection so abruptly that we both gasped from the shock of it. The bond didn't break—it couldn't, we were true mates—but it went cold and empty, leaving us both staggering.

"Sky—" Tobias's voice cracked, his hand pressed to his chest where the bond's absence ached.

But I was already turning away, walking out of his office and leaving him standing alone in the lamplight, both of us reeling from the first time in our relationship that I'd deliberately shut him out.

The sound of his ragged breathing followed me down the hallway, and I pressed my own hand to my chest, feeling the hollow ache where our connection used to sing. This was what sacrifice felt like—not noble or clean, but messy and devastating and necessary.

I had work to do.

The pack's monthly social gathering buzzed with familiar warmth—wolves mingling over coffee and pastries, children darting between adult legs, the comfortable chatter of a community that had known each other for generations. I stood near the windows, nursing a cup of tea I couldn't taste, my eyes scanning the crowd for golden hair and a laugh like music.

I'd spent three days tracking Serenity's movements through the pack territory, learning her routines with the methodical precision of a hunter. She favored the coffee station during social events, always arriving precisely twenty minutes after the gathering began. Tobias, meanwhile, had developed a habit of checking the refreshment table whenever his Alpha duties allowed—a pattern I'd memorized through years of watching him navigate pack politics.

Today, I would orchestrate their reunion.

My wolf whimpered deep in my chest, a sound of pure anguish that I ruthlessly suppressed. Through our deliberately muted mate bond, I could feel Tobias's confusion and hurt from across the room where he spoke with Elder Morrison about boundary disputes. He kept glancing my way, his dark eyes searching for some sign of the woman who used to be his anchor.

But I couldn't be that woman anymore. Not when I knew the truth.

Serenity appeared in the doorway exactly on schedule, and my breath caught despite my preparation. She was everything I remembered and more—tall and graceful, with honey-blonde hair that caught the afternoon light and skin that seemed to glow from within. Her laugh carried across the room as she greeted pack members, that musical sound I'd heard echoing in Tobias's dreams.

I moved with calculated casualness toward the coffee station, timing my approach so I'd arrive just as she did. My hands trembled as I reached for a fresh cup, and I had to grip the handle tight to keep from dropping it.

"Skyler!" Serenity's voice was warm, genuinely pleased. "It's so wonderful to see you again. Congratulations on becoming Luna—I heard the ceremony was beautiful."

The words hit like physical blows. She was kind. Of course she was kind. It would have been easier if I could hate her, but looking into her bright blue eyes, I saw only sincere happiness for my supposed good fortune.

"Thank you," I managed, my voice steady despite the chaos in my chest. "How are you settling back in? I imagine Europe was quite an adventure."

As she launched into stories of her graduate studies, I positioned myself strategically, angling so that when Tobias inevitably approached the refreshment table, he'd have a clear view of her profile. I counted heartbeats, tracking his movement through our bond despite its muted state.

Fifty-three seconds later, I felt him approaching before I saw him. The mate bond, even dampened, couldn't hide the way his pulse quickened or the subtle shift in his scent that spoke of recognition and something deeper.

"Serenity." His voice carried a warmth I hadn't heard in weeks—not since I'd started pushing him away. "Welcome home."

I stepped back slightly, creating space for them while maintaining the perfect vantage point to witness my own heartbreak. Serenity turned, and her face lit up with genuine joy at seeing him.

"Tobias! Look at you—Alpha suits you perfectly." She reached out without hesitation, her hand touching his arm in a gesture of easy familiarity. "I always knew you'd be extraordinary."

Through our bond, I felt his response—a flutter of old affection, the ghost of feelings he'd buried when duty demanded he accept our mate connection. His smile, when it came, was radiant and unguarded in a way that made my chest cave in.

This was the smile I remembered from our childhood, before pack responsibilities and mate bonds and terminal illnesses complicated everything. This was Tobias as he was meant to be—happy, free, choosing love instead of having it chosen for him.

"Tell me everything," he said, leaning closer as other pack members naturally gave the Alpha space for his conversation. "Your research, your travels—I want to hear it all."

Serenity laughed, that musical sound that had haunted our marriage bed, and launched into animated descriptions of ancient libraries and European wolf packs. Tobias hung on every word, his attention completely focused on her in a way that felt like watching the sun rise after months of darkness.

My wolf howled silently in my chest, a sound of such profound loss that I had to grip the edge of the table to stay upright. This was what I'd given up—this easy joy, this natural connection that flowed between them like water finding its course.

I forced myself to watch every moment, to memorize the way his eyes crinkled when she made him laugh, the unconscious way he mirrored her gestures, the comfortable silence that fell between them when words weren't needed. This was how it should have been from the beginning.

When I finally slipped away, neither of them noticed my departure.