The Luna He Lost, the Pack He Ruined

“I’ve already prepared the separation decree and my withdrawal seal from the Nightreaver Pack,” I said quietly. “I’m leaving Alpha Haldrick for good.”

My closest friend stared at me like she’d just heard blasphemy. “Didn’t the Alpha Nightreaver swear he’d finally announce you as his Luna? After all these years, why walk away now?”

I curved my lips into a smile that tasted bitter.

Five years.

I had endured five full winters as Haldrick Nightreaver’s hidden mate—his Luna in name only, never acknowledged beneath the moon banners. And yet, my feelings for him went back far longer. Fifteen years, ever since we were cubs running through the forest borders together.

He was born with frost in his blood—cold, distant, untouchable.

I told myself that if I stayed warm enough, patient enough, if I whispered “I choose you” again and again, one day even an ice-bound alpha would thaw.

Everyone believed I would never leave him.

But two weeks ago, when my mother lay dying, I begged him to drive me to the healer’s hall beyond the western ridge. The skies split open with rain and the moon was swallowed by storm clouds. Yet Haldrick stopped the car at the edge of the territory and told me to get out.

His reason?

His first mate had summoned him.

By the time I reached the healer’s hall on foot, soaked to the bone and shaking, my mother only had enough strength left to squeeze my hand once before her breath faded away.

Something inside me shattered beyond repair.

I had always told myself Haldrick was simply distant by nature—that alphas carried burdens heavier than others.

But that day, I learned the truth.

Later, in the healer’s corridor, his first love smiled gently at me and said, “Can’t you tell? He’s cold to everyone except me.”

Then she showed me a crystal image.

In it, the alpha who hated disorder and avoided touch was leaning close, wiping milk from the corner of her lips with careful fingers. His gaze was soft—tender in a way I had never once received.

I stopped lying to myself.

I was not the one who could warm his frost.

She was his fire.

So I let go.

A week ago, I left the separation decree on his desk beneath the Nightreaver sigil. He didn’t even read it before pressing his seal.

Seven days…

Seven days and the bond would dissolve.

Outside the café carved into the stone of the central territory, Haldrick’s black rune-marked car waited. He had come to collect me, as always—never asking if I wished to ride with him.

He glanced over, faintly frowning at my silence.

“That document you asked me to approve the other day,” he said, voice cool. “Which trade clan was it with?”

I opened my mouth, but…

“Never mind,” he added flatly. “It doesn’t matter. I trust your judgment.”

That sentence struck harder than claws.

For five years, I clung to those words like a blessing.

I trust you.

I thought it meant reliance. Respect. That I mattered.

Now I finally understood.

It wasn’t trust.

It was indifference.

He didn’t care what I handled, only that I never embarrassed him beneath the moon council’s eyes.

I wanted to scream, That wasn’t a trade pact—it was our separation decree!

But his communicator lit up.

One glance at the name and the ice in his eyes melted.

“You’re not feeling well?” His voice softened instantly. “Don’t move. I’ll come now.”

My strength drained away.

When the car slowed at a random street corner, I opened the door and stepped out without a word. The night wind cut my skin, but it was nothing compared to my heart.

We grew up together—if that could be called love.

I was always the bright one, chasing after him through forest paths, calling his name like sunlight breaking frost. I believed—foolishly—that warmth could change destiny.

But real life isn’t a moon-blessed legend.

In high school, I watched him fall for another girl. Clumsy. Gentle. Helpless in the most endearing way. She burned his cold world without trying.

And me?

I tried for years.

Loved for years.

Endured for years.

Until I finally understood…

This bond meant nothing anymore.

Seven days.

Just seven more days and I would be free.