Kat POV:

The morning sun hit the ashes in the fireplace, illuminating the charred remains of the photo album. The only record of the day I turned eighteen, the day I failed to shift.

I watched the last corner turn to gray dust.

Liar, my inner voice whispered. It sounded different today. Like an echo from a deep cave.

"Luna?" A maid knocked. "The Alpha requests your presence. The preparations for the Moon Festival are beginning."

I stood up, smoothing my simple black dress. "I'm coming."

In the walk-in closet, my fingers brushed the velvet box containing the Moonstone necklace—the symbol of the Luna's authority. Heavy, cool to the touch.

I slipped it into my pocket.

Downstairs, the Pack House was chaotic. Streamers in crimson and silver. The smell of roasting meat was overwhelming. Full Moon. Instincts sharp, cruelty apparent.

Alex stood at the center, directing Gamma warriors. Radiating power. When he saw me, his eyes flickered to my bare neck.

"Where is your necklace?" he asked, voice tight. "The pack expects their Luna properly adorned."

"It's being cleaned," I lied. My heart didn't even race. "It was tarnished."

"Hurry up then," he grunted. "And make sure Aria is comfortable. She's the guest of honor."

The chatter died. Wolves exchanged glances. A guest of honor? That title was for war heroes, not a random Omega.

I walked past him, out the back door to the Goddess Temple. A small stone structure, rarely visited.

I entered the sanctuary.

I pulled the Moonstone necklace from my pocket. The gems seemed to pulse, pleading.

"You deserve a Luna who is cherished," I whispered.

I dropped the necklace into the donation box. It landed with a heavy thud among coins and cheap trinkets.

A sudden lightness in my chest, followed by a sharp pang. The first chain was broken.

When I returned, the party was in full swing. Drums mimicked a heartbeat. And there, on the raised dais next to my husband's throne, was Aria.

I stopped dead.

She was wearing silver.

Not just silver. A gown of shimmering silk, liquid moonlight. Only the Luna wears silver on the Full Moon.

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Elders frowned.

"Alex," I said, approaching the dais. My voice was calm, but the air dropped in temperature. "Why is she wearing that?"

Alex looked down, annoyed. "It's just a dress, Kat. Don't be petty. It fits her condition. Silver protects the unborn."

"It is the color of the Luna," Elder Thomas rasped. "This is a breach of protocol, Alpha."

Alex's eyes flashed red. "I am the Alpha! I decide the protocol. Aria carries the future. She deserves the protection of the Goddess."

He placed a hand on Aria's stomach. She preened, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder—a claiming gesture.

The crowd went silent. To nuzzle another wolf in public while your mate stood right there... the ultimate insult.

I should be screaming. Shifting and tearing her throat out.

But I felt... dead.

My wolf went cold. She didn't whimper. She curled into a ball and turned to stone.

She's given up. My wolf has died of a broken heart.

Aria smirked. "Can you get me some water, Katarina? The wine is too strong for the baby."

She used my full name. Like a servant.

Alex didn't correct her. He watched me, waiting for submission. Waiting for a scene so he could punish me.

"Of course," I said softly.

I turned my back. I wasn't getting water. I was starting the countdown.

Kat POV:

I retreated to the shadows, watching. Alex cornered Aria against the stone wall near the wine cellar. He thought the oak barrels hid them.

His nostrils flared.

"You smell intoxicating," I heard him growl through enhanced hearing. "Like sugar and heat."

"Is the 'Luna' watching?" Aria giggled.

"Forget her," Alex sneered. "She's a broken vessel. A useless human. Once you give me this son, I'll buy you a collar of pure gold. You'll be the real queen."

I gripped my champagne glass until it cracked. A shard sliced my palm.

Blood welled up.

My blood had always smelled strange. Sweet. Like honey and ozone. Like the air right before a lightning strike.

The scent drifted. Heads turned. Wolves stopped eating.

Aria pulled back, face twisting. "Ugh! What is that smell? It's overpowering!"

She marched toward me. The crowd parted.

"You!" Aria pointed. "You're ruining the mood. Leaking that... stench."

She grabbed a bottle from a waiter. "Clean it up. Pour this for me. Now."

She wanted me to serve her.

I looked at my bleeding hand. The blood sizzled slightly on the stone floor.

"No," I whispered.

"Excuse me?" Aria's eyes widened. "I am carrying the Alpha's heir! You will submit!"

She stepped forward to shove me.

Instinct took over. Not wolf, but something older. A wave of pressure exploded from my body. Sharp, like ice needles.

Aria shrieked, stumbling back as if physically pushed. She crashed into the champagne tower.

Crash!

Glass exploded. Aria fell, screaming, though the shards barely grazed her.

"Aria!"

Alex moved with blurring speed, scooping her up. He checked her frantically.

"Are you hurt?"

"She pushed me!" Aria sobbed. "She tried to kill the baby!"

Alex turned to me, eyes glowing a furious, demonic red.

I stood there, bleeding. His mate.

But he looked at me with hatred.

"SUBMIT!"

The Alpha Command slammed into me like a freight train.

My knees buckled, hitting the stone with a sickening crack. Head forced down. Lungs seized.

"You are pathetic," Alex spat. "You attack a pregnant female? A defenseless Omega?"

"I... didn't..." I gasped.

"Silence!" he roared. "Get out of my sight. Go to the infirmary. Stay there."

The Command released me just enough to move. I scrambled up, humiliation burning hotter than my hand.

I ran.

At the infirmary, I ran cold water over the cut. Through the window, I saw the courtyard.

Alex sat on a bench, Aria on his lap. He held an ice pack to her ankle—where there wasn't even a scratch.

He lowered his head and licked her skin.

A grooming gesture. Only for mates.

I slid down the wall. The tears finally came. Cold tears.

"I accept it," I whispered. "I accept that I am nothing to you."

My phone vibrated.

Donato: The bird is ready to fly. Hangar 4. 48 hours.

I wiped my eyes. 48 hours.

Kat POV:

For the next week, Alex was a ghost.

On Tuesday, I walked to the Forest Gallery. An ancient structure built into living trees, where Alex and I had exchanged private vows.

I found desecration.

Alex was there. Aria was wearing his white dress shirt—the one he wore at our wedding.

"Oh, look at this one," Aria laughed, pointing at the portrait of Alex's great-grandmother. "She looks like a man. So ugly."

She poked the canvas.

"Careful," Alex said, lazy, amused.

"I bet I'll look much better up there," Aria twirled. "When will you take my portrait, Alex?"

"Soon."

I stepped out. "You have no right to be here."

Aria jumped. Her elbow knocked the frame. The heavy painting crashed.

Snap.

"My finger! It hurts!" she wailed. A tiny splinter. A single drop of blood.

Alex was at her side instantly, panic-stricken. "Let me see!"

I stared at the torn portrait on the floor.

"You broke it," I said, trembling. "You let her destroy our history."

Alex snarled. "Watch your mouth! She is injured because you snuck up on us! You released that... pressure again!"

"She pricked her finger on a frame she knocked over!"

"She is delicate!" Alex roared. "Unlike you!"

He scooped her up. "We're going to the hospital. Now."

I followed. Like watching a car crash.

At the hospital, Dr. Evans rushed around.

"She's anemic," the doctor lied, eyes darting to Alex. "Stress... shock... she needs a transfusion to stabilize the pregnancy."

"Take mine," Alex said, rolling up his sleeve.

"Alex, no," I stepped forward. "You just shifted for the full moon two days ago. Your blood count is low. Giving blood now could weaken your wolf for weeks."

An Alpha's blood is the pack's life force. Giving it casually when weakened was dangerous.

Alex looked at me with disdain. "I would give every drop to save my child. Something you clearly don't understand."

He extended his arm. "Do it."

As the dark, rich Alpha blood flowed into the tube, I felt the last thread of hope snap.

He was draining his life force for a lie.

I watched Aria. She wasn't pale. She was watching me through half-closed eyelids, a triumphant smirk on her lips. She was showing me she could bleed the Alpha dry, and he would thank her.

Alex's eyes drooped. "Save... the baby..." he mumbled, passing out.

My phone buzzed.

Donato: The pilot is waiting. Code: White Wolf. Go now.

I looked at Alex one last time. "Goodbye, Alexander."

He didn't hear me. He was too busy dying for another woman.

I stood in the corner of the hospital room. Alex stirred, looking gray.

"Kat?" he croaked.

"I'm here." My voice sounded distant.

"I have to go," he tried to sit up. "The West Coast inspection. The investors..."

"You can't fly," I said flatly. "You'll pass out."

"I have to. Private jet."

I knew the truth. He was taking Aria to the secret cabin at Lake Tahoe. A romantic getaway for her "trauma."

"Fine."

He squinted, trying to tap into our bond.

Kat... are you okay? You feel... quiet.

I put up a mirror, reflecting his own emptiness.

I am fine, Alpha.

He flinched at the formal title.

"Sir," a guard poked his head in. "Ms. Aria is asking for you."

Alex ripped the IV tape off. "I'm coming."

He stumbled out without a glance.

I drove back to the Pack House. I packed cash, my passport, a locket.

Then, the cleaning crew arrived. Humans hired by Donato.

"Ma'am," the lead cleaner nodded. "Industrial grade enzyme spray. Breaks down biological markers. Scent, hair, skin cells."

"Do it," I said. "Everything."

I watched them spray the bed, the carpets. The chemical smell was acrid, like a swimming pool mixed with lemons.

I went to the computer. Katarina De Luca. Delete.

My records. Bank accounts. Access codes. Gone.

The front door slammed. Alex was back.

I rushed down. He was in the kitchen, shoving raw steaks into a cooler.

"Forgot supplies," he muttered. "Special diet for her. Iron."

He grabbed a bottle of whiskey, then paused, phone to his ear. "Yes, baby, I'm coming. Don't cry."

He hung up and looked at me. He sniffed the air, frowning. "Why does it smell like bleach in here?"

"I'm deep cleaning," I said, my voice steady. "Nesting instinct. I wanted the house spotless for... the twins."

His face softened, ego stroked. He interpreted my erasure of self as service to his mistress's offspring.

"Good," he breathed. "You're a good Luna, Kat. We'll... we'll talk when I get back."

There is nothing to fix.

He walked out. The heavy oak slammed shut.

He didn't notice I wasn't wearing my ring.

I picked up my bag. I walked out, leaving the keys on the table.

Freedom smelled like jet fuel and cold air.