Eleanor POV:

Two days later. My birthday.

Liam came to my room. "Happy Birthday," he said awkwardly. "Dinner tonight. Just us. I promise."

I waited.

7:00 PM.

8:00 PM.

8:15 PM. My phone buzzed.

*Live Stream: Blood Moon Celebration.*

I clicked it. Liam was in the banquet hall. There was a banner: *Welcome to the Family, Sarah!*

"Sorry folks!" Liam told the camera. "False alarm with the baby, but we're celebrating anyway!"

The camera panned. Grandfather Vance was holding the Moonstone Bracelet. My inheritance.

"To Sarah," the old man announced. "The true Luna."

He clasped it on her wrist. It didn't glow. It looked dull, dead. But the crowd cheered.

Sarah looked into the camera. She smirked.

I stood up. I walked downstairs, a ghost crashing the party.

The music died.

Liam turned. He saw the frosting on my finger from the cupcake I’d eaten alone.

His face went pale. He checked his watch. He had forgotten.

Sarah grabbed his arm. "Liam, look! The bracelet!"

But Liam was staring at me. He clutched his chest, his eyes widening. He felt it—the snap.

I unclasped the locket he gave me years ago.

I dropped it.

*Clink.*

I turned and walked away. The Luna was dead.

I walked out the front doors.

"Eleanor! Wait!"

Liam ran after me.

Suddenly, headlights blinded us. An engine roared.

Rogues. They had breached the perimeter.

"Look out!"

Liam shoved me. The truck clipped him, the sound of breaking bone sickeningly loud.

The truck sped off.

"Liam!"

I crawled to him. His leg was mangled. Steam rose from the wound—silver plating on the bumper.

Warriors poured out. Sarah stood back, feigning horror.

Liam's mother marched up to me. "You. You are a curse. Ever since you lost your wolf, you bring nothing but death."

I looked at Liam. He was conscious, looking at me with hazy eyes.

"El..."

I stood up. I didn't take his hand.

*

For the next week, I played nurse. Liam refused anyone else.

I changed his bandages. I was mechanical.

"El, about the bracelet," he whispered. "I didn't know."

"It doesn't matter."

Elder Thomas entered with Sarah. She was wearing a silk robe, acting like she owned the place.

"Alpha," Thomas said. "The rogue attack proves we are vulnerable. We need the Mating Ceremony. Saturday."

"That's in two days," Liam argued.

"It is necessary," Thomas insisted. "Legitimize the heir. Eleanor will be... reassigned."

I stood up.

"Do it," I said.

Liam stared at me. "Eleanor?"

"Marry her. Mark her. Give them what they want."

"See?" Sarah chirped. "Even she agrees."

Liam looked for a fight in my eyes. He found only a void.

"Fine," he said hollowly.

Eleanor POV:

I spent the day packing my escape bag. Fake ID. Cash.

Sarah barged into the attic.

"I need your veil," she demanded. "Liam said I could have it. A symbol of... transition."

"It's a holy object, Sarah. Woven by Blind Silk Worms."

"Give it to me, or I tell Liam you tried to poison me. Again."

I looked at her. Pathetic.

"Fine."

I pulled the veil from the chest. As I smoothed it, I crushed dried Devil's Nettle into the lace lining. A plant that causes unbearable itching and mild hallucinations in wolves.

"Here," I said. "May it bring you exactly what you deserve."

*

I watched the ceremony from the window.

Liam looked like he was at a funeral.

When the Elder asked for the vows, Sarah started twitching.

"I do," she rushed out, scratching her neck.

"You may mark her," the Elder said.

Liam leaned in. Sarah shrieked.

"It burns! Get it off!"

She tore the veil off, clawing at her face. She tripped over her dress and face-planted into the mud.

"Happy wedding day," I whispered.

The chaos was delicious.

Then the screaming changed.

"Blood!" Sarah yelled. "Save the baby!"

Warriors kicked my door in.

They marched me to the hospital. Liam was pacing, covered in mud.

"She's losing blood," he said, frantic. "Placenta detachment. She has Golden Blood. Rare."

"Like me," I said.

"You're the only match," Liam begged. "Eleanor, please. That is my child. Don't let my child die because you hate her."

If I refused, the pack would execute me on the spot.

"Fine. My blood buys my freedom."

They hooked me up. I watched my life force drain into the tube, feeding the woman who stole my husband.

When it was over, Liam handed me a ticket.

"Paris," he said, looking guilty. "One way. Sarah knows you poisoned the veil. If you stay, she'll demand your head. Go."

Exile disguised as mercy.

"Goodbye, El."

I took the car to the airport.

But I didn't board the flight to Paris.

I went to the bathroom, changed into a hoodie, and used my new passport: *Aria White*.

I boarded a budget flight to the North. Neutral territory.

Two hours later, over the intercom: *"Breaking news. Flight 815 to Paris has disappeared from radar over the Atlantic..."*

I stared out the window.

Eleanor Vance was dead.

Liam POV:

I was drinking whiskey in my office, trying to drown the memory of the failed marking.

"Alpha!" Marcus burst in. "Turn on the TV."

*Flight 815... No survivors expected.*

The glass slipped from my hand.

My inner wolf, silent for months, screamed.

It wasn't a sound. It was a physical tear in my chest.

I ran. I shifted mid-stride, shredding my clothes.

I arrived at the airport naked, shivering.

"Passenger list!" I roared at the attendant.

"Vance. Eleanor Vance. Boarded."

I collapsed on the tile floor.

The bond didn't just break. It shattered.

*She is gone,* my wolf mourned. *And we sent her there.*

I was a ghost.

I tried to claim the body. The humans said I was divorced. Not next of kin.

I walked through the house. The pack avoided me. I smelled like instability.

Sarah was on the sofa, eating grapes. My mother was painting her nails.

"It's tragic," Mother said lightly. "But maybe it's the Goddess's will. No more distractions."

"At least we don't have to pay alimony," Sarah laughed.

Something snapped.

I was on Sarah in a blink. I grabbed her wrist.

"Take it off."

"What?"

"The bracelet. Take. It. Off."

"But I'm the Luna..."

"You are nothing!" I roared. My aura crushed the room. My mother fell to the floor, gasping.

I ripped the bracelet off Sarah's arm.

"If I hear one more word of disrespect toward Eleanor, I will forget that you carry my child."

I stormed out to our old bedroom.

I found a photo of us in the trash. She had cut my face out.

I lay on the floor, clutching the photo, and welcomed the madness.