Sitting in the living room of the Silver Moon Pack's alpha house, I alternated my gaze between my phone and a photo of Mom. Before she passed away, she had tearfully entrusted me to Alpha Mathias, imploring him to look after me.

The Alpha had knelt beside her hospital bed at that time, clutching her hand and assuring her with his deep, commanding voice, "Don't worry, Mom. I'll take good care of Lucia."

Yet not long after she left us, Alpha Mathias often didn’t return to the pack house at night. When he did, he carried the scent of another she-wolf's floral perfume—a scent that wasn’t mine. His neck and body were marked with numerous red patches, the kind left by possessive bites.

Whenever this happened, I would confront him in tears, asking if there was someone else. He would snap back in his alpha tone, the weight of his dominance pressing down on me, "You’re going stir crazy playing housewife all day. I have pack business to attend to, and it's only natural to pick up some scents."

Pushing away these memories, I packed my things and headed to Mom’s grave. The Silver Moon Pack cemetery was quiet, the moonlight casting long shadows over the tombstones. I knelt in front of hers, laid down flowers, and talked to her for a long time.

I told her how happy I was and how well the Alpha treated me. But those were just comforting lies. I hoped to soothe her spirit and keep her from worrying about me from above. With no family left in this world, I had to learn to rely on myself and grow stronger. My wolf stirred faintly in the back of my mind, a quiet whisper of support.

Night descended before I realized it, and my phone buzzed with a call from Alpha Mathias.

"Where did you go?" he demanded, his voice sharp and impatient.

Of course, he had forgotten today marked the anniversary of Mom’s death. Understandably, he was likely preoccupied with his supposed "adopted sister," Vanessa, the Gamma from the Crimson Fang Pack.

A wave of bitter hopelessness rose within me, but I forced myself to stay composed. "Today is Mom's memorial day. I'm at the cemetery."

There was a pause before he finally said, his tone softening slightly, "I'm sorry, Lucia. I was caught up with pack business and forgot. I'll come to pick you up right away."

Twenty minutes later, Alpha Mathias’s car pulled up at the cemetery. Light rain had begun falling, soaking my hair. He stayed inside the car, gesturing for me to hurry up and get in. I climbed into the passenger seat, the scent of Vanessa’s perfume lingering in the air, a cruel reminder of the bond that was slowly unraveling between us.

After sliding into the passenger seat, Mathias handed me a few tissues to wipe the rain off my face, his movements casual, almost dismissive. The scent of his Alpha aura filled the car, sharp and commanding, but it no longer brought me the comfort it once did.

“If you’d mentioned earlier that today was your mom’s anniversary, I would have driven you there,” he said, his tone flat, as if he were discussing something trivial rather than the day I visited my mother’s grave. His voice carried the weight of his Alpha tone, but it lacked the warmth it used to have when he spoke to me.

“You don’t drive like Vanessa, and it’s not exactly convenient for you to get around,” I replied, my voice steady despite the tightness in my chest. I had once considered getting a driver’s license myself, but he had dismissed the idea with a scoff, saying, “What does an Omega need a license for? Even if you got one, you wouldn’t have time to drive.” His words had stung then, and they still did now.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” he asked when I stayed silent, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he accelerated. The car jerked forward, and I felt my stomach churn. He knew I got carsick easily; if he didn’t drive smoothly, I’d end up nauseous. It felt deliberate, a subtle way to assert control.

“There’s nothing I want to say,” I replied, my voice calm but firm. In the past, I would have explained myself endlessly, trying to prove that I wasn’t angry. But now, none of that mattered. The bond between us, once a source of strength, now felt like a chain.

“Alright, then where do you want to eat…” He was interrupted by his phone, which rang loudly from its holder. The name flashing on the screen was: [My Dearest Vanessa.]

Mathias’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of unease crossing his face. “Vanessa changed that herself; I’ll fix it later,” he mumbled, his Alpha tone softening as if he were trying to reassure me.

“No need, the name fits well,” I said, a hint of irony in my voice, as I turned my attention to my phone. I began searching online for prominent legal advisors specializing in pack disputes. The name Bridget Lewis kept appearing in my search results, and I made a mental note to contact her.

“Hey, Vanessa, what’s up?” He had already answered the call, his voice shifting to a softer tone, one I rarely heard directed at me anymore. The voice on the other end was sickly sweet, dripping with false concern.

“Alpha, I just saw some fresh shrimp at the grocery store. I bought some and thought I’d make dinner for you and Lucia tonight.”

“This…” Mathias looked a bit troubled, his eyes flicking to me as if seeking permission.

“Sure, you’re welcome to join us,” I answered for him, my tone polite but distant. He looked at me, astonished, as if he couldn’t believe I had said that. It wasn’t surprising that he was taken aback; I used to loathe Vanessa. I didn’t like her coming over, and I disliked Mathias spending time with her. Women’s intuition is usually spot on, and I knew Vanessa had a particular interest in him.

Every time I tried to stop him from seeing Vanessa, Mathias would get furious, and over the years, we had fought about this countless times. He seemed to have forgotten the promise he made to my mother to take care of me well. The distance between us, once a small crack, had now widened into a chasm, and I wasn’t sure if it could ever be bridged.

When I got back to the pack house, Vanessa was already bustling in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Mathias, my mate and the Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack, had given her the access code to our private quarters, allowing her to come and go as she pleased. I changed the code daily just to maintain some semblance of control, but today I hadn’t bothered. It didn’t matter how often I reset it—Mathias would always hand it over to Vanessa again. Constantly switching the code wasn’t a solution, so I let it slide this time.

"Lucia, you’re back! Dinner’s almost ready," Vanessa called out, her voice dripping with false cheerfulness. She acted as if she were the Luna of the pack, not me. Two years ago, she and Mathias had crossed paths during a pack celebration. I’d heard he’d overindulged in the ceremonial wine, and she’d stepped in, brewing some herbal concoction to soothe his hangover. Mathias had been so moved by her care that he’d declared her his "adopted sister" without even consulting me. Just brought her home one day and announced it to the pack as if it were nothing.

"Mm-hmm," I answered curtly, barely acknowledging her as I slipped into the bedroom to change out of my day clothes. Mathias followed closely behind, his presence as commanding as ever. Even in private, his Alpha aura was impossible to ignore.

"Why do you keep giving Vanessa the cold shoulder? She’s here cooking for us," he said, his voice tinged with frustration.

“Should I roll out the red carpet for her?” I shot back, fixing him with a glare that could freeze the moon itself. His eyes flickered with concern, but he avoided my gaze. Instead, he pulled me into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around me as if to soothe the tension between us.

"I’m sorry, alright? I know Vanessa isn’t your favorite person. I won’t ask her over anymore," he murmured, his tone softening. "Let me make it up to you tonight, okay? Let’s sleep together."

We’d been mates for six years, but we hadn’t shared a bed in almost a year. He’d suggested separate sleeping arrangements, claiming he tossed and turned too much and didn’t want to disturb my rest. I knew the real reason—it was so he could mind-link with Vanessa every night without interruption. I hadn’t called him out on it, simply accepting his explanation. But for the past year, we’d lived like strangers under the same roof.

This was the first time he’d proposed sharing a bed again.

"I’m not feeling well," I said firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. His expression darkened, but he didn’t argue. I brushed past him and walked out of the room, my heart heavy with the weight of the unspoken truth between us.