I spent the entire Thanksgiving alone in the healing den of the Silver Fang Pack. Most of my time was spent gazing out the window, admiring the snowy landscape, the starry sky, and the fireworks lighting up the night. During this time, Alpha Legacy never called. Instead, Arabella Elliott, the rogue werewolf, flooded Instagram with countless photos of them traveling together. Their mutual friends left teasing comments beneath the pictures.

"You two spent the whole holiday together—might as well make it official. You're a match made in heaven!"

"Arabella, keep those pictures coming! You're such a stunning pair!"

I stared at the screen, feeling a strange calm, like a still pool of water. I refreshed the page and saw Alpha Legacy replying to a few comments.

"Stop with the nonsense. I'm just keeping Arabella company while she's alone in New York for the holidays."

"Just to clarify, Arabella and I are just really good friends. Everyone, relax."

His replies only added fuel to their excitement. They continued to promote the idea of them being together. I knew those people never accepted me, nor did they believe in my mate bond with Alpha Legacy. But we hadn’t dissolved the bond yet—did they have to be so ruthless? I swallowed my tears of humiliation and replied:

"Looks like good news is on the horizon, congrats."

As soon as I posted my comment, Arabella deleted all her recent posts. I silently chuckled, finding her actions pointless—they were meant for me to see, after all. I expected Alpha Legacy to call and berate me for upsetting Arabella. Sure enough, the phone rang shortly after. I picked up to find Arabella on the line.

"Luna Estrella, did you misunderstand me and Alpha Legacy? I truly see him like a brother. If you're upset that he spent the holidays with me, I'll leave New York right away."

Her tearful voice pierced through the phone. I frowned, my patience wearing thin. Before I could respond, Alpha Legacy's voice, heavy with anger, took over the line.

"Arabella, I'm your brother's friend; it's only right to look out for you! People with bad intentions should be ashamed!"

Arabella continued to sniffle. I listened silently. No one spoke after that, and I thought that was the end. But Alpha Legacy, clearly not done expressing his anger, grabbed her phone and shouted at me furiously:

"Are you happy now, Estrella? Are you satisfied after making Arabella cry?"

"How could you be so heartless? No wonder, among the three of us skiing, only you ended up seriously injured—you deserved it!"

The sound of fireworks exploding outside drowned out Alpha Legacy's angry rant. Tears welled up in my eyes once again. For the first time, I hung up on him.

My wolf stirred within me, a low growl of frustration echoing in my mind. *He doesn’t deserve you,* she whispered, her voice tinged with pain and anger. But I pushed her back, unwilling to let her emotions cloud my judgment. I was the Luna of the Silver Fang Pack, and I had to maintain my composure, even if it felt like the bond between us was crumbling faster than I could hold onto it.

The phone buzzed again, the sound grating against my nerves like a relentless reminder of everything I wanted to forget. I reached over and silenced it, the sudden quiet almost deafening in contrast.

I couldn’t understand how Legacy and I had fallen so far from where we once stood. He was my mate, my Alpha, the one the Moon Goddess had chosen for me. We had shared moments that felt like they could weather any storm—moments that now felt like a cruel joke.

Legacy had confessed early in our relationship that he’d had a love before me, someone who had left a mark on him. To soothe my insecurities, he’d sworn that I was his future, his family. “You’re my Luna,” he’d said, his voice firm with conviction. “You’re the only one I’ll ever cherish.”

For someone who had grown up without parents, the idea of belonging to someone, of being someone’s family, was intoxicating. And for a while, I believed him. We shared laughter, quiet nights, and the kind of intimacy that made me feel seen in a way I never had before.

But then Arabella returned from overseas, and everything began to unravel.

I should have known better than to trust Legacy to stay true to me. The mate bond between us, once so strong, now felt like a frayed thread, barely holding on. His attention shifted to her, his concern for her needs overshadowing mine. Even the pup I’d carried—our pup—hadn’t been enough to anchor him to me.

Enough was enough. I reached out to Delilah, an old friend and the Beta of the Moonlight Shadow Pack, to help me draft a separation agreement. It was a formal severing of the mate bond, a declaration that I was done fighting for something that no longer existed.

When the agreement arrived, I felt a strange sense of relief, as if a weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying had finally been lifted. I drifted into sleep as dawn approached, the exhaustion of the past weeks finally catching up to me.

But my rest was short-lived. I was jolted awake by a rough shake, my eyes flying open to see Arabella standing over me with that sickly sweet smile of hers. “Estrella, you’re awake!” she chirped, her voice dripping with false cheer. “Legacy and I are here to see you. We brought your favorite spiced honey cake. Come on, have a bite.”

She moved carelessly, jostling the bed as she tried to help me sit up. Her hands tugged at the wounds on my abdomen, sending a sharp pain radiating through me. I gasped, instinctively pushing her away.

Arabella stumbled backward, her theatrics in full swing as Legacy caught her. “Are you alright, Arabella?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

She began to sob, her hands weakly pushing against his chest. “I’m fine, Legacy. Let go, or Estrella might get upset again.”

I watched her performance with cold detachment, the bitterness in my chest swelling. I knew what was coming next.

Sure enough, once Legacy had calmed her, he turned to me, his eyes dark with anger. He struck the area near my wound with a force that left me breathless, the pain stealing any words I might have had.

“Estrella Ruiz,” he said, his voice cold and final, “you had this coming.”

I met his gaze, my face pale but my resolve unshaken. Legacy’s expression was indifferent, as if he’d already erased me from his thoughts, while Arabella gave me a triumphant smile, her victory written all over her face.

The wound on my abdomen reopened, blood seeping through the gauze. Legacy glanced at it and frowned, his tone dismissive. “Arabella, you’re squeamish at the sight of blood. Don’t look; it’s gross.”

He shielded her as they walked away, leaving me alone in the healing den, the sting of his betrayal sharper than any physical pain.

As I lay there, the silence of the room pressing in on me, I felt a flicker of something new—resolve. Legacy had made his choice, and now it was time for me to make mine. The mate bond that had once defined me was no longer my anchor. It was time to let go.