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.
Aurora's POV
I had just closed the novel I was reading when the chamber door creaked open. I kept my expression steady, though surprise flickered through me.
Alaric stepped in.
He reeked faintly of liquor, and when his gaze locked onto me, a crooked smirk curled on his face.
“Well, look at you,” he drawled. “Relaxing as if you didn’t just try to embarrass me tonight.” His tone hovered somewhere between mocking and irritated. “Really bold of you, Kris. Announcing in public that you’re done acting like my little attendant. What was that about? Trying to drop hints about our bond?”
I exhaled slowly as he came to a stop at the edge of the bed.
“I told you already—I don’t care who knows,” I said, moving around him and heading for the exit.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice sharpened, the warning unmistakable.
“To the room I actually sleep in,” I replied calmly. “You’re the one who made the rule that I shouldn’t be here if you are.”
I saw the moment the memory hit him—the cold words he’d thrown at me the night of our wedding.
“Did I give you permission to walk out?”
“What exactly do you want from me, Alaric?” I turned, facing him fully. “To stand here and wait for your insults? No thanks. I’d rather keep what little peace I have.”
His eyes darkened, frustration tightening his jaw.
“You’re acting strange. What are you upset about this time? I can’t understand you.”
I held his stare without blinking.
“I’m not angry, Alpha Alaric. I’m finished. I’m done letting you treat me like something beneath your boots. I am not a servant.”
“You’re my wife, Aurora,” he growled. “Do you need to be reminded what this marriage means?”
Of course. The marriage.
The arrangement he never wanted—forced on him when Mirelle vanished to chase fame. He didn’t choose me. He chose duty, politics, and resentment. And I paid for it with my dignity.
“Believe me, I remember everything,” I said, my tone flat as ice. “And Mirelle’s back now. You can finally have the mate you actually wanted. You don’t have to keep punishing me for her choices.”
Silence stretched between us. Alaric’s lips parted, but he had no words.
“Kris…” he murmured, guilt edging into his voice.
“You know I loved you,” I whispered, the words cutting deeper than I expected. “I said it. And you made me suffer for it. I kept hoping you’d see me, but now… now I realize I was nothing but a fool.”
I opened the door and stepped out.
Tears blurred my vision, but I wiped them away before a single drop fell.
I wouldn’t shed tears for him anymore.
---
Morning came.
Mirelle stood in the main hall like a princess arriving at her castle, a bright suitcase parked beside her.
She looked around with a sparkling smile.
“Sis! Where’s Alpha Alaric?” she chirped.
“I have no idea,” I replied, voice flat.
She tried to hug me, but I moved aside. Her lips puckered into an exaggerated pout.
“Are you upset with me, Sis Kris?” she asked, her voice sugary enough to rot teeth.
My wolf growled at the sound. I used to fall for that innocent act—treated her like my real sister, protected her even. But that version of me wasn’t here anymore.
“No, I’m not upset,” I answered with a smile that didn’t touch my eyes. I looked at her luggage. “Staying awhile?”
She lit up.
“Alpha Alaric told me to move in! He wants me nearby. You don’t mind, right? Right, Sis Kris?”
Her eyes gleamed with triumph beneath all that fake sweetness.
“Do whatever you want.”
I turned to leave, but she grabbed my wrist.
Alaric’s presence approached—his scent, his aura, the shift in the air.
“You don’t seem happy that I’m here,” she whimpered. “Maybe I should just leave…”
Her voice cracked pathetically. My jaw tightened—she wanted him to catch her crying.
And right on cue, she stepped back and let herself fall.
“Aurora!” Alaric’s roar echoed through the hall.
He bolted toward her as she burst into soft sobs, clutching her wrist like I’d twisted it.
“Don’t be mad at her, Alpha,” she sniffled. “It was my fault. I slipped… she didn’t push me.”
Alaric touched her cheek like she was fragile porcelain.
“I didn’t touch her,” I said steadily.
But he wasn’t listening.
He turned toward me, eyes blazing. “I saw everything, Aurora. Don’t you dare lie to me. Mirelle is staying here—she belongs here. And you have no right to mistreat her. I won’t let you repeat your cruelty. I am your Alpha. You are only a Luna… barely one.”
Mirelle’s smile flickered behind him—a cruel, victorious curl of her lips.
I stayed perfectly still, gaze unwavering.
“I know exactly what I am, Alpha Alaric. And if you’re determined to believe her lies, that’s your choice. I’m done defending myself.”
“You—!”
He seized my jaw, fingers digging painfully into my skin.
“If you ever hurt Mirelle again, I swear, Aurora—I’ll make you pay.”
His grip tightened before he shoved my face away. My lips quivered—not from fear, but from the rage boiling inside me. My wolf snarled, clawing at the edges of my mind.
“GUARDS!” Alaric thundered. “Take the Luna to the dungeon. She can rot there for the next day!”
The guards moved toward me.
I straightened my spine.
Lifted my chin.
“You don’t need to force me,” I said quietly. “I can walk on my own.”
I gave Alaric and Mirelle one last look—the Alpha who never wanted me, and the woman he’d always chosen over me.
My eyes were cold.
Empty.
And then I turned and walked away.
