I have been a ghost for two years, drifting behind the man who cursed my name. Silas is now a billionaire Alpha, ruling his empire with his new fiancée, while I am just a forgotten phantom.

Eight years ago, to save my dying mother and protect Silas from execution, I was forced by a rival Alpha to sign a false confession of treason. I had to publicly reject Silas as my mate, shattering our bond.

My sacrifice was in vain. My mother died that night. Silas, consumed by hatred, left me to rot in the dungeons, bound by toxic silver chains that destroyed my vocal cords. Stripped of my pack, I became a wandering rogue. For six years, I lived in the slums, spending my meager earnings to secretly pray for his success. When we finally crossed paths again, he watched debt collectors beat me half to death in an alley. He threw a stack of bills at my bleeding face.

"Take this charity and disappear from my territory forever."

I died shortly after, struck by a truck on a cold street. Because I was a packless rogue, my death made no sound. My broken body lay unclaimed in a morgue for an entire year. He built his glorious life fueled by his eternal hatred for me, never knowing my love for him was the only thing keeping me alive.

Now, sitting in his luxurious club, Silas commands his men to drag me before him to humiliate me. But how will the great Alpha react when he finds out the traitor he wants to punish is already dead?

Chapter 1

Selena POV:

A fine, persistent rain was ticking against the cobblestones of the human city.

I stood under the awning of a small shop, watching the raindrops pass without resistance through the phantom architecture of my hands.

Even as a ghost, I felt it—a dormant ember smoldering deep in my blood, a power whispered only in the oldest legends. I had never touched it, not once. Not when I lay bleeding in that alley, not when the truck's headlights blinded me on the cold street. Because using it would have meant letting go of him—and I was never strong enough for that.

Death was a cold and lonely state, but I had grown used to it over the past two years.

Across the street, an old fortune-teller witch sat under a large black umbrella, speaking to a human reporter holding a microphone.

"Who was the most devoted soul you've ever encountered in this hidden corner of the city?" the reporter asked.

The old woman sighed, her cloudy eyes staring into the distance.

"A young girl," she rasped. "Came to my stall for six consecutive years. Every week, through sun and deluge."

The girl never asked for her own fortune, only praying to the Moon Goddess for the safety and success of her former Alpha.

The Moon Goddess was our creator, the divine mother who watched over all wolves and tied our souls to our destined mates.

"I consulted my crystal a few nights ago, to check on her," the witch told the reporter, her voice faltering. "Her soul flame... it has already gone cold."

I smiled a bitter, soundless smile, because that dead girl was me.

My soul drifted away from the rainy street, pulled by an invisible tether that tied me to the man I could never truly leave.

I floated into the grand, ancient Moon Goddess Temple, a sacred sanctuary hidden deep within the mountains of our territory.

The air within was heavy with the scent of burning sage and the deep, resinous perfume of old pine.

Standing before the towering marble statue of the Goddess was Silas.

He was the undisputed master of the Blood Moon Pack, a billionaire Alpha whose power and wealth now rivaled the oldest human kings.

He wore a dark, perfectly tailored suit that seemed sculpted to his broad shoulders and muscular frame.

He placed a massive check of ten million dollars into the temple's offering box without a flicker of expression.

He was doing this just to buy a simple blessing amulet for his fiancée, Freya.

The high priest, an old wolf with eyes that could perceive the fractures in a soul, handed Silas the small silver amulet.

Silas let out a dark, mocking chuckle as he took it.

"I should be thanking my treacherous former mate," Silas sneered. "Casting me aside when I was destitute was the greatest service she ever rendered. It cleared the path for Freya. She will be crowned my Luna before the month is out."

The priest did not return the powerful Alpha's smile.

He looked deeply into Silas's eyes and spoke a cryptic warning.

"You maintain a flawless facade for the world, Alpha, but in the private ledger of your soul, you carry a terrible debt."

The priest turned and walked away into the shadows of the temple, leaving Silas frowning in the silence.

Suddenly, Silas's eyes glazed over slightly, a sign that someone was using the pack's mental communication network.

Silas, are you coming home soon? I made your favorite roasted meat.

Freya's sweet, demanding voice echoed through the mind-link, loud enough for my ghost ears to catch the psychic vibration.

The squall that had been gathering behind Silas's eyes instantly dissipated.

I am on my way, my love. Wait for me.

He cut the mental connection, his face relaxing into a soft expression I used to think was reserved for me alone.

He walked out of the temple and stopped under the massive, ancient wishing tree in the courtyard.

His sharp Alpha eyesight locked onto the highest branch, where a faded red ribbon fluttered in the cold wind.

It was the ribbon I had tied there eight years ago, sitting on his strong shoulders, laughing as I secured our names together.

I had prayed for our mate bond to last through all eternity.

Silas stared at the ribbon, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle ticked in his cheek.

"The promises of an Omega," he muttered, "as worthless as soiled paper."

A sudden gust of wind bent the high branch downward.

Silas reached up with lightning speed, his large hand wrapping around the fragile red fabric.

With a sharp, tearing sound that split the quiet air, the old cloth was rent in two. The ruined pieces drifted like dead moths into a muddy puddle at his feet. A moment later, his expensive leather shoe descended, grinding the ribbon's fibres deep into the black soil with a vicious, final twist.

A great, invisible weight pressed down on my spectral form, forcing me towards the earth. I did not fall; I simply dissolved, my knees becoming one with the mud as I reached out to save the symbol of our past.

My transparent fingers simply passed through the mire, the ribbon, and his shoe.

I looked up at his cold, hateful face, and the finality of my own death settled in my chest once more.

Could his hatred for me truly outlast death itself?

Selena POV:

I drifted like a shadow behind Silas's sleek black car as he drove back to his massive estate.

His home was a fortress of glass and steel, sitting on the most expensive land in the Alpha's territory.

It stood in stark opposition to the damp wooden cabin we once shared, a place that always smelled of wet earth and decay.

As soon as he walked through the heavy double doors, Freya ran barefoot across the heated marble floor.

She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest.

Silas caught her easily, his large hands resting on her waist as he kissed the top of her head.

They sat at the long dining table, surrounded by human servants who silently served them.

Freya chattered excitedly about her upcoming Luna coronation ceremony and their grand wedding.

Silas listened patiently, offering her the perfect emotional support, nodding and smiling at all her ideas.

Freya cut a piece of the roasted meat she had prepared and held it up to his lips.

"Open," she beamed. "Is this not the finest thing you have ever tasted?"

Silas took the bite, but his chewing suddenly slowed to a halt.

I knew exactly what was happening in his mind.

He was remembering the burnt, tough pieces of wild rabbit I used to roast for him over our tiny fire in the old cabin.

His eyes darkened, and his breathing hitched for a fraction of a second.

To cover his reaction, he quickly released a wave of his Alpha scent.

It was a heavy, oppressive presence, like the air before a thunderstorm, thick with the smell of crushed pine needles.

The scent was designed to soothe and protect, and Freya immediately melted into her chair, intoxicated by his power.

"It is perfect," Silas lied, his voice smooth.

He then wiped his mouth and told her he had to leave for a few hours to visit the pack's exclusive high-end club.

He needed to personally hand out the VIP wedding invitations to the upper-class members of their society.

Freya pouted, her high-ranking female wolf instincts flaring up as she gripped his sleeve, not wanting to share her Alpha.

Silas chuckled softly, patting her hand and promising to return before midnight.

I floated near the ceiling, looking down at the beautiful couple, feeling the massive, unbridgeable gap in our destinies.

Silas arrived at the towering, neon-lit club in the center of the city.

My ghostly heart squeezed tightly in my chest, because I recognized this place immediately.

This was the very place where Silas and I had our last, tragic encounter two years ago.

Inside the luxurious private room, the air was thick with the smell of expensive alcohol and cigars.

The Betas, who were the second-in-command officers, and the elite Warriors all stood up to bow their heads respectfully.

These were the same men who used to spit at Silas's feet when he was poor.

Now, they poured his drinks and laughed loudly at everything he said, desperate for his favor.

Silas sat in the center of the velvet sofa, his posture relaxed but his eyes cold and distant.

His gaze kept darting toward the heavy wooden door of the room, as if he was searching for a ghost.

Halfway through the night, a drunk Beta raised his glass, trying to flatter Silas.

"To the Alpha!" the Beta cheered. "Risen from the ashes! In truth, it is a damnable good thing that pathetic Omega Selena informed on you. Her betrayal was a blessing in disguise-it freed you to become the king you were meant to be!"

The temperature in the room plummeted instantly.

A low growl, born of pure, visceral agony, rumbled from Silas's chest, a vibration so deep it made the crystal glasses on the table tremble.

The memory of his darkest hour, the moment I abandoned him when he was facing execution, was his ultimate reverse scale.

Silas forced a cold, cruel smile onto his face, agreeing with the Beta's words.

But his eyes were dead, filled with a violent storm that promised destruction.

He snapped his fingers, and the club manager rushed over, trembling in fear.

Silas's voice dropped into the deep, echoing resonance of the Alpha's Command.

It was not a request but a physical weight in the air, a pressure that locked the bones of weaker wolves into submission.

"Find Selena," Silas commanded. "The former serving girl of this establishment. Drag her before me. Now."

What would he do when he found out the girl he wanted to punish was already rotting in the earth?

Selena POV:

I floated near the crystal chandelier, looking down at Silas on the velvet sofa.

His knuckles were bone-white where he gripped his whiskey glass, and the ice cubes within audibly cracked under the sudden, unnatural pressure of his hand.

I could feel the suffocating waves of his hatred radiating through the room, directed entirely at me.

Looking at his furious face, my mind was pulled back to the darkest day of my living life.

The day I destroyed his heart to save his life.

Eight years ago, it was not me who conspired with the violent, packless rogue wolves.

The true mastermind was Julian, the cruel and powerful Alpha of the rival Silver Crest Pack.

Julian had cornered me in the hospital where my mother lay dying of a mysterious spiritual illness.

She desperately needed a rare healing herb called the Moonflower to survive the night.

Julian held the only Moonflower in the entire region in his hand.

He leaned in close, inhaling the scent of wild berries and fresh snow from my skin. "You are scented too sweetly for a cur like him," he whispered, his eyes dark with a sick, possessive hunger.

He smiled like a demon and told me I had two choices.

I could watch my mother die and let Silas be executed by the pack council for a crime Julian had framed him for.

Or, I could confess to the crime myself, take the blame for dealing with rogues, and publicly reject my mate.

Julian admitted he was doing this to clear the path for his sister, Freya, who was obsessed with Silas. But the way his gaze assessed me, like a merchant appraising damaged goods, told me he wished to break me for his own perverse satisfaction.

He showed me the true cruelty of a high-ranking Alpha, crushing a bottom-tier Omega like a bug under his boot.

I had no choice but to nod, my tears falling silently as I signed the false confession.

Julian dropped the glowing Moonflower onto my lap and deliberately released his suffocating Alpha aura, forcing me to my knees to show his dominance.

At that exact moment, my mind-link snapped open.

Selena, please tell me this is a lie. Tell me you didn't do this!

Silas's voice echoed in my head, raw and broken, begging me to come back to him.

Julian stood over me, his eyes dark with warning, gesturing to the Moonflower.

I closed my eyes, forcing down the vomit rising in my throat, and opened the mental connection to my mate.

I pushed every ounce of cruelty I could muster into my voice.

"I, Selena, reject you, Silas, as my mate."

The words tore from my throat, and instantly, a pain worse than burning alive ripped through my chest.

It felt as if someone had reached into my ribcage and torn my soul in half with bare hands.

"You are a worthless, sniveling cur," I screamed into the link. "You do not deserve the dirt beneath my feet!"

Through the link, I heard Silas drop to the floor, his breathing turning into ragged, agonizing gasps.

He endured the brutal physical and spiritual torture of the severed bond.

When he finally spoke, his voice was completely dead, devoid of any light or hope.

"I, Silas, accept your rejection."

The invisible tether between us, already frayed, snapped with a finality that only a soul can hear. It did not shatter; it corroded, like a steel cable eaten through by acid, leaving only a silent, echoing void.

I stayed by my mother's hospital bed, feeding her the Moonflower, praying for a miracle.

But her weak body rejected the powerful medicine, and she took her last breath just as the sun rose.

I had lost everything in a single night.

I ran frantically to the borders of our territory, desperate to see Silas one last time before his exile.

I found him standing in the snow, his body trembling violently as he stood on the edge of his very first Shift.

His bones were breaking and reforming, his muscles expanding in the agonizing process of becoming a wolf.

I reached out to him, crying his name.

He turned his glowing, feral eyes toward me and laughed, a sound so full of venom it made me step back.

"Keep away from me, traitor," he snarled, his voice thick with a monstrous distortion. "The very sight of you sickens my wolf."

He turned his back on me, and Freya stepped out from the trees, wrapping her thick fur coat around his shaking shoulders.

They walked away into the freezing forest, never looking back.

I was left alone in the snow, shivering and empty, wondering—how long could a broken heart beat before it stopped forever?