The rain poured harder, drumming against the pavement in a relentless rhythm. Dave shielded Clara beneath the umbrella, cradling her in his arms as if she were something fragile, precious. She curled into him like a cat seeking warmth, her delicate hands clutching his shirt. Dave didn’t seem to mind the rain soaking through his clothes, not as long as Clara remained dry and comfortable.

He didn’t even glance back.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, watching them move toward the car. A cold numbness spread through me.

It was a scene I had witnessed before, long ago, during the early days when my heart beat only for him. I had once thought his arms were a safe place, his embrace something sacred. But even back then, it had been Clara he sheltered like this.

The rain plastered my hair to my face, chilling me to the bone. My hands trembled—not from the cold, but from the realization that I had been blind for far too long.

No. I wouldn’t stand there like a fool any longer.

Clenching my fists, I forced my legs to move, cutting through the rain and sliding into the back seat of Dave’s car. The leather was cold against my skin, but I didn’t shiver. I simply stared out the window, the glass blurring with rivulets of rain.

Dave finally returned, brushing water from his hair, and paused when he saw me. His expression flickered—surprise, maybe even guilt—but it quickly vanished behind that familiar mask.

“Oh, Aria,” he said, his tone overly sweet, “Clara’s health is delicate. You know how easily she gets sick. I just wanted to make sure she was safe in the car. You’re not upset, are you?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if trying to gauge my reaction.

Then, realizing how cold and wet I was, he quickly added, “Darling, why didn’t you wait for me to help you in? I should’ve been more considerate.”

His apology was smooth, practiced.

I met his eyes and forced a thin smile. “It’s fine.”

Those two words seemed to satisfy him. He let out a soft chuckle, shoulders relaxing. Of course, Dave believed me. I had never been the type to hold grudges, and he took comfort in that.

But deep inside, whatever remained of my feelings for him had long since turned to ash.

The drive back was suffocating. The car was filled with the sound of rain and silence. Neither of us spoke. He kept his eyes on the road, and I stared out the window, pretending the storm outside was louder than the storm inside me.

When we finally reached the Norman estate, I moved like a ghost through the halls.

I didn’t waste time. I gathered my belongings, folding clothes into a suitcase with mechanical precision. The room felt colder than usual, stripped of any warmth. On my dresser sat an old, worn diary—the only thing I left behind.

Its pages were filled with memories of a girl who once believed in family, in love. Let them keep it. Let it be my last gift to the people who had raised me.

As I dragged my suitcase toward the front door, Freya’s voice echoed behind me, sharp and cold.

“Oh? So, you’re really leaving? Don’t expect us to come running if something happens to you. You’re on your own now.”

I paused in the doorway, fingers tightening around the suitcase handle. Slowly, I turned back to look at her.

Twenty years. Twenty years under this roof, and this was how it ended.

I held her gaze, searching for any trace of warmth, of regret. There was none.

“Not even a sliver of affection left, is there?” My voice was steady, almost too calm. I gave her a faint, humorless smile. “Goodbye, Mother.”

Freya didn’t flinch. She just turned away, as if I were a shadow on the wall.

And that was it. My farewell to the Norman Family.

By the time I returned to the house I shared with Dave, the sky had darkened. The storm still lingered, distant thunder rumbling like a warning.

Dave greeted me with a wide grin, holding up an elegant white garment. “Aria! Look at this. I picked it out myself. The wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime event, after all. You deserve the best.”

Laid out before me were rows of pristine wedding dresses, each more elaborate than the last.

I stared at them, my mind distant.

It was all a performance to him now. An elaborate show.

Dave’s eyes sparkled as he lifted one of the gowns toward me. “Here, try this one. I think it’s perfect for you!”

I hesitated, fingers brushing over the fabric. No matter how beautiful these dresses were, none could compare to the one I had designed myself, the one I had dreamed of wearing.

But dreams were for fools.

Wordlessly, I took the dress and disappeared into the fitting room.

The gown felt heavy against my skin, as if it carried the weight of every lie Dave had ever told me.

When I stepped out, Dave wasn’t even paying attention. He was huddled in the corner, speaking in hushed tones on the phone.

“I have to come now?” His voice was soft, careful. “But I’m with Aria, helping her choose a dress... Fine. I’ll be there soon.”

He thought I couldn’t hear him.

But I heard every word.

Every damn word.

And just like that, the fragile threads holding me together snapped.

Let him go.

Let them both think they’ve won.

Because soon, none of this would matter.

The full moon was coming.

And with it, so was my reckoning.

Dave’s arms tightened around me, his breath brushing against my neck.

"Darling, you look beautiful in anything," he murmured, his voice dripping with that familiar false affection. "There’s something urgent with the pack, so I might not be able to stay with you. Just pick whichever dress you like."

The word pack clung to the air like smoke.

A convenient excuse.

I knew exactly where he was going—right into Clara's waiting arms.

I didn’t argue. I didn’t question. I simply gave him a small nod, pretending to believe him.

"Alright," I whispered.

Satisfied, Dave placed a light kiss on my temple and grabbed his coat. The door shut behind him, and the house fell into an eerie silence, disturbed only by the distant howling of wolves beyond the woods.

The air felt heavier now, the scent of rain and damp earth creeping in through the cracks of the window.

I stood there, staring at the sea of white gowns spread across the room. Fine silks, shimmering beads, delicate lace—mockery draped on hangers. None of it mattered.

These dresses meant nothing in a world where my mate had chosen another.

"Maria," I called, my voice sharper than a wolf's fang.

The housemaid appeared in the doorway, eyes downcast. "Yes, Luna?"

That title made my stomach turn. I wasn’t his Luna—not truly. Not when his heart belonged to another.

"Burn them."

Her head snapped up, eyes wide in disbelief. "M-Miss?"

"Burn every single one. Not a single thread remains."

Maria paled but nodded, disappearing to carry out the order.

As the flames roared in the fire pit outside, I watched the dresses curl and blacken.

But it wasn’t just fabric being devoured.

It was every lie, every whispered promise, every fleeting moment of warmth Dave had given me.

The heat licked at my skin, but it couldn't melt the ice in my veins.

Later that evening, I sat in the dim study, absentmindedly scrolling through my phone. A notification buzzed.

Clara Norman posted a new story.

Something primal stirred inside me, curiosity laced with a simmering rage.

I opened it.

Dave, standing beside Clara, draped his arm over her shoulders. In her hand, she clutched a luxury handbag, and that sickeningly sweet smile stretched across her face.

"When your Alpha knows exactly what you love. #Spoiled #Forever"

Alpha.

The word was poison on my tongue.

My wolf growled low in my chest, a warning.

So this was what he left me for.

Fine.

Let them have it all.

I pulled open the drawer and retrieved a velvet box. Inside was the folding fan I had commissioned myself. Not an ordinary fan, but one inscribed with protective runes and symbols passed down through wolf-blooded families.

It was meant to shield me on my wedding day.

Now?

Now, it would be a perfect gift.

If Clara wanted to steal everything from me, why not this too?

I would leave it for them when I was gone. Let them uncover the true weight of what they’d taken.

The front door creaked open. Dave’s scent hit me first—a blend of pine and iron—but it was different now, tainted.

"Darling," he called, stepping in with a bag in his hand. "I brought roasted chestnuts for you."

Some of them were already peeled.

I stared at them, unmoving.

Roasted chestnuts.

Clara used to covet whatever I loved. She’d claimed my favorite foods, my friends, even the man fate had bound to me.

I felt my wolf shift beneath my skin, restless and snarling.

"I’m not hungry," I said coldly.

Dave’s expression flickered with confusion before he quickly smoothed it over with a chuckle.

"Come on, don’t be like that. I had something important with the pack today. You know I’d rather be here with you."

Lies.

I heard the truth in the hollow tone of his voice, smelled the deceit beneath his skin.

I stepped away from his touch, my face expressionless.

"It’s fine."

Relief washed over him. He smiled, believing he had smoothed everything over, as always.

He reached for my hand, his grip warm but meaningless.

"The day after tomorrow is our wedding. The elders have arranged for a premarital checkup. I’ll stay with you tomorrow, I promise."

His golden-brown eyes softened, searching mine for any flicker of love.

I met his gaze steadily.

"Alright."

Let him believe in that lie.

Tomorrow wouldn’t come the way he expected.

The next morning, I rose as usual. Outside, the sky was heavy with clouds, and the scent of approaching rain stirred the wolves in the woods.

My phone vibrated.

Blackwater Cruise: Your custom cruise will arrive in two days. Prepare for boarding.

I stared at the message, my wolf pacing restlessly beneath my skin.

Two days.

That was all I needed.

I quickly silenced the notification as Dave entered the room, holding up a small pouch.

"Guess what I got for our trip?" he said with a boyish grin.

I didn’t answer.

I didn’t care.

Let him play his little game.

Soon, everything he thought he had would crumble.

And I would be gone—far beyond his reach.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a pale glow over the Norman estate. Shadows stretched long and thin across the marble floors as I moved silently through the house. Every step I took echoed in the hollow halls, but it didn’t matter anymore.

By dawn, I would be gone.

Dave’s scent lingered faintly in the air—pine and something darker, something primal. His absence was a hollow weight in the house.

I glanced at my phone.

No new messages.

Of course not.

Dave was with Clara. No doubt wrapped up in her lies and silken words.

The servants moved quietly, not daring to question me as I packed the last of my things. They could sense the shift in me. Wolves always knew when a storm was coming.

I lifted the velvet box that held the custom fan—the one I had once dreamed of carrying on my wedding day. The runes carved into its delicate frame shimmered faintly under the moonlight, a subtle pulse of ancient magic.

Let them have it.

It would be my parting gift.

I placed it carefully on Dave’s bedside table. A warning. A curse. A blessing. I no longer cared which.

My eyes drifted to our wedding photo on the wall, already framed and ready for display. His arm was draped around me in that picture, his smile radiant. But now, it only looked hollow.

I turned away.

There was nothing left for me here.

As the clock neared midnight, I slipped out of the house.

The night air was sharp, tinged with the earthy scent of damp soil and pine. Somewhere deep in the woods, a wolf howled—a long, mournful sound that rippled through the air.

My wolf stirred uneasily beneath my skin.

Soon.

Soon we would be free.

The road to the docks was deserted, the world holding its breath in the quiet hours before dawn. My car cut through the darkness, headlights slicing through the mist.

When I arrived, the ship loomed in the distance, a dark silhouette against the inky sky. The Blackwater Cruise.

My escape.

"Miss, you’re early," a crew member greeted me, eyes flicking to my luggage.

"I couldn’t wait any longer," I replied coolly.

He nodded, helping me aboard without question.

The ship was massive, its polished decks gleaming under the moonlight. It was luxurious, yet there was something haunting about it—a ship destined for distant lands, carrying secrets far from prying eyes.

Perfect.

I stood at the railing, watching the dark water lap against the hull. The cool wind tugged at my hair, whispering promises of freedom.

But even here, my senses stretched outward, instinctively searching.

He doesn’t know.

Dave wouldn’t realize I was gone until morning.

I let out a slow breath, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders.

But the peace was fleeting.

Something was wrong.

A scent—faint but familiar—drifted through the air.

I turned sharply, eyes narrowing.

It wasn’t Dave.

But it was from the pack.

A shadow moved near the dock. A figure cloaked in black.

No.

Two figures.

My heart clenched.

Had they followed me?

Had Dave sensed something and sent someone after me?

Or worse—had Clara?

A low growl rumbled in my throat before I caught myself.

No. I wouldn’t let them take this from me.

I turned away from the rail, my footsteps silent on the deck.

The ship's engines rumbled to life, a deep vibration that rolled through the metal beneath my feet.

We were leaving.

Let them watch.

Let them see what it meant to lose something they thought they owned.

By the time they realized, I would be far beyond their reach.

Far beyond the pack.

Far beyond Dave.

And for the first time in years, I felt the sting of tears—not from pain, but from release.

The ship groaned as it pulled away from the dock, carving through the black water.

I was free.

Or so I thought.

Because somewhere in the distance, a howl cut through the night—low, deep, and impossibly close.

My blood ran cold.

That wasn’t any ordinary wolf.

That was a warning.

The past wasn’t finished with me yet.