The Anniversary the Luna Walked Away

“Luna Amarise, you and the Alpha have been bonded for thirty years. You share a son, a daughter and even a young cub. With such a complete pack lineage, do you truly feel no reluctance at all?”

The pack-law advocate frowned slightly, hoping I might change my mind.

Reluctance?

A cold curve lifted my lips.

Not long ago, I had been injured in a carriage crash on the mountain road. The Moon Healers contacted Alpha Emric Blackspire and our pup again and again.

No one answered. Not once.

When I finally woke from my coma, I saw that my daughter-in-law had forgotten to hide her latest crystal-recording.

That was how I learned the truth.

While I lay bound to moon-silver wards in a healing chamber, they were all gathered at Nightfang Citadel, hosting a grand feast for Emric’s first mate—Corinne Grimvale—celebrating her sculpture receiving a royal moon seal.

In the recording, my grandson ran across the stone hall, cub-laughter echoing brightly. Emric, his silvered hair catching the firelight, held Corinne close, his smile warm and unguarded.

I sat there the entire afternoon, numb, finally understanding that this self-deceiving mate bond should have ended long ago.

“I’ve decided,” I said calmly. “Prepare the bond-severance decree and the pack-equity transfer.”

On the day of our thirtieth mating anniversary, I chose to give Emric the grandest gift—and the last one.

Congratulations. He no longer needed to hide his true mate.

***

When I returned from the Council Hall, Emric stood on the balcony, speaking to his aide through a moon-communicator.

“Yes. The skyfire must bloom like a sea of stars. Only something that magnificent suits Corinne.”

In thirty years, Emric had never once brought me moonflowers. One year, I hinted that I wanted silver roses for my naming night. He only frowned.

“Why waste resources, Amarise? The gardens are full of blooms.”

I once thought he simply lacked tenderness. Yet now, he spared no expense to summon skyfire worthy of a queen—for her.

I stood silently in the hall. Emric ended the call, stepped inside, tossed his cloak at me without a glance.

“Why are you back so late? Dinner isn’t ready?”

Only then did I realize that I had never been his Luna—only a tireless pack servant.

Hiding the ache in my chest, I hung his cloak properly.

“Emric, I’m preparing your anniversary gift.”

His irritation eased. He even lifted a brow, clearly pleased.

“Then order food from the southern traders. You like cured boar meat, don’t you?”

Corinne liked it. The smell always made me ill.

Half a lifetime and he still knew nothing about me.

Before I could speak, his communicator lit up again.

He turned away quickly, but I had already seen the name.

Corinne.

Ten minutes later, he returned in haste.

“Working late tonight. Eat without me.”

I caught his wrist and handed him a single page and a pen.

“Emric, I’m thinking of replacing the pack carriage.”

He clicked his tongue, annoyed and signed without looking.

“Always extravagant. Fine. Don’t waste my time.”

He shoved the parchment back and rushed out, trampling a scarf as he went.

That scarf was one I had woven from frost-wool, fingers bleeding, for our last anniversary.

I picked it up and threw it away, as if discarding my own torn heart.

Then I removed my mate ring and entered his private chamber.

I turned the lock of his iron safe—Corinne’s birth moon.

It opened at once.

Inside lay an album, carefully preserved, filled with memories never meant for me.

Emric claimed three fixed Council journeys each year. Now I knew the truth. Every one of them was spent roaming foreign territories with her. Twenty years. From age thirty-five to fifty-five.

My hands shook as I turned to a page where they kissed beneath the golden light of Moonfall Glades.

She wore ceremonial swim-silk, radiant despite the years. He, though lined by time, still strong, still devoted. What bound them was not affection—but worship.

Earlier pages had yellowed. They were young then, reckless.

The first image showed them holding hands beneath an observatory spire as a meteor streaked the sky.

Below it, in Emric’s handwriting:

“I once missed a falling star. I hope I never miss the one who loves them.”

From black hair to white, they never did.

I remembered the day he marked me as his mate.

Under a star-filled sky on the high grasslands, he placed the ring on my finger, swearing loyalty before the Moon.

I finally understood—it was never for me.

Corinne loved the stars.

Those vows were never mine.

Pain split my chest. I set the album down as tears fell, endlessly.

I had chased Emric for three years before he accepted me.

My parents warned me. Said his heart was elsewhere. I believed love could be earned.

But a bond forced into being never grows sweet.

After thirty years, I had tasted only bitterness.

I fed him, raised our heirs, cared for the cubs, never resting.

Once young and radiant, I became worn and heavy with time. While he and his beloved remained untouched, glowing still.

Ten years ago, he began forgetting anniversaries, missing my birth nights, leaving me alone in healing halls with only a cold message.

I told myself—sixty-six disappointments and I would leave.

This was the sixty-sixth.

I placed the mate ring and the signed severance decree into his safe.

Then I lifted my communicator and dialed.

“Zevran Silverhaze,” I said softly, “do you still want my shares in the Blackspire Council?”