Aurora's POV
“What do you mean you’re ‘done’? Are you seriously defying me now, Aurora?”
His voice was sharp enough to cut. Alaric had always despised being challenged—so for me to push back like this? To him, it was an act of rebellion he couldn’t ignore.
His gaze dropped to the document in his hand, then flicked back to me with a twisted expression.
“What is this supposed to be?” he demanded. “You’re unbelievable. Always twisting things. You didn’t even look sick! You clung to me like you were dying out of nowhere—trying to make me feel guilty.”
He hurled his accusations like daggers—without hesitation, without care.
In his eyes, I was nothing but deceit incarnate. A nuisance. A mistake he never should’ve been tied to.
But I had never lied to him—not once.
Did I deserve this treatment? Perhaps he believed so.
I bit down on the inside of my cheek, choosing silence. Explaining myself would be useless. He never listened. He never believed me. Not then, not now.
My chest throbbed painfully, but I refused to break. I needed his signature. Nothing else mattered anymore.
He exhaled sharply and fixed me with those cold midnight-blue eyes—the same eyes I once loved, the same ones I’d searched desperately for any trace of affection. For five long years, I hunted for warmth there. A spark. Anything.
But all I ever found was frost. The warmth he used to have vanished the moment he changed without warning.
I gave everything just to be acknowledged by him. To be loved. Hell, even tolerated would've been enough.
But all I received in return was hurt. Endless, bone-deep hurt.
“I’m leaving. Won’t be around for a week,” he muttered, walking past me as though I were a stranger in his hallway. He barely looked at the paper again, lifting it slightly before his phone rang.
His entire expression shifted—worry flared instantly. I didn’t need to check.
It was Mirelle.
“I have something urgent to deal with,” he said hastily, already halfway turned away, like I didn’t exist anymore.
“Sign it before you go,” I said, stopping him with my voice.
He frowned. “Can’t it wait?”
“No. This is what you’ve always wanted.”
His jaw twitched. His eyes darted between me and his ringing phone. Finally, gritting his teeth, he snatched the pen, scribbled his name without even glancing at the document, and shoved it back into my hands.
“There. Happy?”
Several pages slipped from the stack and fluttered to the floor, but he didn’t even spare them a look. He shifted shape and bolted off—straight toward her.
I stared at the papers scattered at my feet as my vision blurred. He didn’t even bother asking what he was signing.
It was the end of our marriage.
The severing of our mate bond.
A broken laugh escaped me—thin and bitter—as I crouched to gather the pages.
Even now, it hurt more than I wanted to admit.
My phone vibrated just as I wiped my tears.
Not his name.
Of course not.
I answered.
“Is it done?” The deep, authoritative voice on the other end sent a shiver down my spine.
I swallowed. “Yes. As promised. I don’t go back on my word.”
“Good,” he said quietly, but there was steel beneath it. “For your sake, I hope you truly meant it this time, Kiki. I don’t tolerate lies. You have one week.”
I tightened my grip on the phone. “Two weeks. Just give me two.”
“That’s not what we agreed on.” Disappointment coated his tone.
“Please, Val… two weeks. After that… I’m yours. I swear it.”
Silence. Heavy.
Each second scraped against my nerves.
“Do you hear me?” I whispered.
He released a slow breath. “How could I not? Fine. Two weeks.”
Relief washed over me. “Thank you. I just need to finish something before I leave.”
“I hope this last tie you’re clinging to doesn’t destroy you any further,” he murmured, then the line went dead.
For a moment, I simply stared at nothing before shutting my eyes. I thought walking away would be simple.
But leaving this place—the place that had stolen more tears than it ever gave comfort—was harder than I’d imagined.
If Val hadn’t been there… today might’ve been the day I died.
He was the one who found me when I begged Alaric to return.
The one who stayed by my side.
The one who saved me.
Always him.
And now… I had sealed my fate.
For once, I was choosing myself.
I deserved to feel alive.
I deserved peace.
Two weeks.
Just two more weeks to tear out the last remnants of this life—to burn the memories, to cut every tie, to finally destroy every bridge behind me.
As I packed away the remnants of my life with Alaric, my phone buzzed again. I thought it was Val.
But it wasn’t.
It was her.
My mother.
“Hello?”
The word tasted unfamiliar. I hadn’t called her ‘mother’ in years—not after that day five years ago, when she looked me in the eye and confessed she despised having me as her daughter. That she would only ever consider Mirelle her true child.
All because of a shattered sapphire necklace—an heirloom Mirelle destroyed.
Yet when I tried to explain, I was labeled a liar. Again.
“Where are you? Do you even remember what day it is?”
Her tone was icy, laced with irritation.
No warmth.
No affection.
Never for me.
But for Mirelle? Always.
Unfair? Absolutely.
Because I was her real daughter—
The one she could never bring herself to love.
Aurora's POV
“I—”
“Just come home,” she cut me off, her tone clipped. “Bring something for your father. It’s his birthday, and he expects you to show up.”
Then the call ended, leaving nothing but the hollow ringing in my ear.
I didn’t want to go.
I never did.
The Blackwood Pack had never felt like mine. It was a place I walked through like a ghost—unnoticed, unwelcomed. My mother had made it clear long ago that she wanted nothing to do with me. Only my father gave me something that resembled kindness… though even that felt watered down compared to what he gave Mirelle.
Because Mirelle received everything—his affection, his pride, his legacy.
And me?
I was the stray mutt loitering at the doorstep, hoping for crumbs I was never meant to touch. Hungry. Hopeless. Diminishing.
Three days had passed since Alaric scribbled his name on the rejection papers.
Three days since the night I nearly died.
And I hadn’t seen him once.
I knew exactly where he was. And with whom.
The old me—the stupidly hopeful version—would’ve called him over and over just to hear his voice, asking whether he planned to come back to the pack house, pretending my heart wasn’t shattering with every word.
I tried so hard. I reshaped myself again and again, hoping one of those versions would be enough for him to look at without disgust.
But the colors I painted myself in bled together—
Red.
Darker.
Even darker…
Until everything turned pitch black.
Now? I felt nothing. I was drained of emotion, emptied out.
I threw the final box into the garbage bin beside the house, planning to burn everything later.
A wave of dizziness hit me. Maybe my body was still recovering. My wolf certainly was—exhausted, thinning, fading.
She’d been dying the moment I took Alaric as my mate. What should’ve strengthened her—our bond—had only weakened her instead.
Alaric never accepted us. His wolf didn’t either.
And mine... she had started slipping away. Staying here meant losing her completely. Wolves don’t survive that. And neither do their humans.
We had survived on scraps of affection from a mate who never wanted us.
But I was done being starved.
---
The Blackwood Pack rose proudly on the western side of the werewolf realm—one of the elite packs trusted by the Werewolf King of Crescent City.
I wore a plain dress. Nothing fancy.
Even though I held the title of Luna of Moonlight—the strongest pack in Crescent—nobody outside Alaric’s inner circle knew.
His idea.
Supported by his parents.
Endorsed by the council for my supposed “safety.”
But I knew better. He wasn’t protecting me.
He was hiding me.
He was embarrassed that I was the one fate tied to him—when it should’ve been Mirelle.
Everyone around me dressed like royalty—gowns glittering like starlight, men in tailored coats and silks. These were Alphas, Betas, Lunas from powerful packs. No omegas. No staff. No whispers allowed.
No one here knew the truth—that I was the real daughter of the Blackwood Pack.
My parents buried that truth for their reputation, letting Mirelle shine, letting her hold the title that belonged to me.
And me?
I was the unwanted truth they couldn’t erase.
Cruel.
In every way.
I approached my father and bowed slightly. “Alpha Gideon… this is my offering.”
One of his guards accepted it from my hands. My father gave me nothing more than a stiff nod.
I’d grown used to that coldness.
I once believed that discovering my true bloodline would make me feel wanted. That coming home would finally mean belonging.
It never did.
I remembered standing here as a child, ten years old, watching my parents beam at Mirelle—the girl who took everything meant for me.
I bit my cheek hard and turned away.
That’s when I saw them.
Mirelle and Alaric.
Her hand wrapped around his arm like she’d owned it since birth. He wore a sleek black coat and a sharp expression. She wore a lavender dress shimmering under the chandelier light.
They looked flawless together.
Beautiful, even.
Perhaps… they really were the match everyone wanted.
They were walking straight toward us.
My mother brushed past me as though my body were nothing more than air. Her entire face lit up when she saw Mirelle.
Alaric’s gaze found mine. I stiffened my spine and stepped forward.
To everyone in the room, I was merely his assistant. His helper.
How twisted.
How unbearably unfair.
And once, I accepted it.
Just to be close to him.
Just to pretend I mattered.
How stupid I had been.
“Take this to the Alpha,” Alaric said, pushing a gift box toward me.
I didn’t lift a hand.
Mirelle’s and my mother’s heads snapped in my direction, eyes narrowing at my defiance.
“Why didn’t you accept it?” Mirelle asked, sugary sweet with a sharpened edge.
Alaric’s voice dropped into authority. “Are you ignoring an order from your Alpha now?”
I met his icy blue stare and spoke with a calmness that felt like death.
“I’m finished, Alaric. I’m not your servant anymore.”
A collective gasp echoed across the hall.
Alaric’s eyes widened—shock breaking through his usual cold mask.
And for the first time ever…
I saw fear flicker in them.
Aurora's POV
Conversations burst across the hall like sparks catching dry grass—startled gasps, hushed rumors, curious stares snapping toward us.
A servant speaking back to an Alpha—to Alpha Alaric of all people—was unthinkable. Unheard of.
Alaric’s eyes thinned to icy slits. His jaw twitched.
“What did you just say?”
He tried to sound measured, but fury simmered under every word.
People worshipped him for his strength, resented him for his power, and feared him for the merciless bite behind both.
No one challenged him. Ever.
But I’d lived under his cruelty for years—silent, invisible, withering.
What more could he do to me that he hadn’t already done?
“I said I won’t serve you anymore,” I answered, my voice steady and clear enough to cut through stone.
A few onlookers flinched, as though I’d just laid my throat on the chopping block myself.
Alaric’s lips curved into that familiar, glacial grin that never reached his eyes.
“That’s not your decision to make. You don’t get to walk away from me.”
And of course, Mirelle slid in beside him like smoke—soft, sweet, poisonous.
“Kris, think about what you’re saying,” she cooed. “He can punish you for this. You know better.”
My gaze drifted between the two of them.
Then to the woman standing off on the side—my mother—silent, stiff, offering me nothing but the cold comfort of indifference.
I swallowed everything that threatened to rise in my throat and forced a smile instead—sharp, wide, almost mocking.
“A servant? I refuse that lie. I refuse to keep shrinking just to make room for people who don’t even see me. I deserve more than this. More than all of you.”
Another ripple of shock. For the first time tonight, my parents looked… startled.
Displeased. Appalled.
At least it was something.
“This isn’t the time,” my father said tersely, stepping forward. “We will discuss this elsewhere. Not now—not during my celebration.”
My father.
A title I’d never learned how to wear.
A man who never treated me as his blood.
“You’re right, Alpha Corvin,” Alaric replied, giving him a curt nod.
My mother, eager to cover the scene, raised her voice and announced some distraction to pull the guests’ attention elsewhere. The murmurs shifted with the crowd, but my stance did not.
“My decision stands,” I told them. “I will not live beneath your boots any longer. I am not something to trample.”
I turned to leave, but Alaric’s hand clamped around my arm.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed. “Are you going to expose everything?”
I peeled his fingers off me one by one, refusing to break eye contact.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m not telling anyone anything… if that’s what you’re terrified of.”
Then I walked away, his voice echoing behind me.
“We’re not done, Aurora!”
“Let her be, Alpha,” Mirelle said lightly. “She’s just upset you haven’t been coming home.”
I didn’t spare them a look as I pushed through the wide doors of the hall.
Cold night air rushed over me—sharp, clean, liberating.
I filled my lungs with it.
For the first time in years, I felt… weightless.
Unchained.
I wouldn’t miss this place.
Not the faces.
Not the whispers.
Not the ache they carved into me piece by piece.
No more bending.
No more begging.
No more clawing for love from people who never had any to give.
“Aurora.”
I stopped.
My mother stood behind me—the same copper-blonde hair as mine, the familiar eyes.
And yet there was no warmth.
Only frost.
I didn’t speak.
Once, I would’ve searched her face for affection.
Now, there was nothing left in me to search with.
She stepped closer and, without hesitation, struck me across the face.
The taste of metal spread across my tongue, but I refused to react.
“How dare you humiliate your father tonight!” she snarled.
I exhaled, slow and tired.
“Are you satisfied? What’s next? Another slap?”
Her expression faltered.
Maybe she finally noticed it—
The absence of tears.
The stillness.
The hollow quiet where a wolf’s heart should be beating.
No pleading.
No explaining.
Just emptiness.
“You’re exactly like Malrick,” she spat. “He filled your head with lies. Twisted you. Turned you vicious.”
Uncle Malrick.
The only person who ever held me with kindness.
The man who apologized for switching me—who grieved what was stolen from me.
He was blamed until his last breath, and they barred me from attending his funeral because their shame was more important than my grief.
“I pity you,” she said, voice cracking with bitterness. “You may be my daughter, but he damaged you beyond repair. I don’t know how to fix you.”
Fix me?
A bitter laugh almost slipped from my mouth.
“Fix?” I echoed quietly. “There’s nothing here left for you to fix.”
I turned my back on her.
“I don’t want to see any of you again.”
She called my name, but I shifted—letting my wolf take me despite her fragile state. Pain tore through my muscles as my paws hit the ground, but I ran.
Ran from them.
Ran from everything.
Tears blurred the world as the wind rushed past.
I didn’t deserve any of this.
And I would never forgive them.
Not in this lifetime.
Not in the next.
