The next morning, I arrived at the Nightreaver Pack’s central tower as I always had.

The Alpha Court was already awake—clerks moving between rune-lit corridors, messengers carrying sealed scrolls between departments, the low hum of territory wards vibrating through the stone walls.

I set my leather satchel on my desk and activated the crystal screen, preparing to finalize my handover reports.

For the first time in years, I did not step into the communal hearth room to prepare Haldrick’s morning brew.

Normally, I would grind moon-roasted beans myself, adjusting the bitterness precisely to his preference, then deliver it to his office before he even asked.

Today, I poured a cup of dark wolfroot coffee for myself and drank it alone, its sharp taste grounding me as I reviewed contracts in silence.

When Haldrick emerged from his office, his gaze swept across the room out of habit—and stopped.

There was only one cup on my desk.

Mine.

He paused.

Just briefly.

Then he said nothing and continued forward.

The atmosphere in the office felt unnaturally quiet.

I used to fill the space with idle chatter, light laughter meant to soften the rigid formality of the Alpha Court. Today, I didn’t even lift my head.

Haldrick slowed near my desk.

“Is something obstructing your work?” he asked, his tone flat, carefully controlled.

“No,” I replied, eyes still on the screen.

He lingered.

There was something sharp in his stare, like he was searching for a crack in my composure. For a fleeting second, I thought he might finally mention the severance scroll he had signed without reading.

Then…

A sharp cry rang out from the stairwell.

Haldrick’s head snapped toward the sound, his wolf surging violently beneath his skin.

I followed his line of sight—and my stomach dropped.

It was Danella Evergrove, stood halfway up the stone steps, arms wrapped around an overflowing crate of archived documents. One heel had slipped into the edge of the stair, throwing her balance dangerously off.

Below her stretched a hard stone floor and a steep drop of more than ten steps.

Her arms shook. The crate tilted.

She could fall at any moment.

“Danella!” Haldrick shouted.

The sound tore from him—raw, panicked, stripped of all restraint.

Before I could react, he shoved my chair aside and lunged forward.

“Haldrick!” I called instinctively. “Don’t run like that—”

I reached for him, fear spiking sharp and sudden. I didn’t care about Danella. All I saw was him, charging headlong toward danger.

I even shouted for the sentries stationed nearby.

But Haldrick didn’t look back.

He tore his arm free from my grasp, striking my hand aside without hesitation. Heat flared across my knuckles where he’d knocked me away.

He took the stairs in a blur, faster than the guards could respond.

I watched as he caught Danella just in time, pulling her against his chest.

But the momentum carried them both backward.

The crate spilled.

They fell.

The impact echoed through the hall like thunder.

I froze at the top of the stairwell.

Haldrick lay sprawled on the ground, his body curved protectively around Danella’s. His shoulder had slammed hard into the iron railing—I heard the sharp grunt of pain he tried to suppress.

Yet when he looked at her—his eyes were impossibly gentle.

As if the frost that had ruled him for years had finally melted.

My hands were shaking.

The fall hadn’t been fatal.

But it could have been.

If his head had struck the stone instead of his shoulder, he might have died in that instant.

And still—

He hadn’t hesitated.

Not even for a heartbeat.

I stared down at my reddened hand—the one he had flung away moments before—and let out a hollow, broken laugh.

There was no warmth left in it.

Only something cold and bitter, settling deep in my bones.

I turned back to my desk.

My fingers trembled as I slid the silver mating ring from my hand.

The ring his mother had chosen. The one I used to press my lips to in secret, pretending it represented love instead of obligation.

“Enough,” I murmured.

I stood, walked to the hearth room and dropped the ring into the refuse bin.

It struck the bottom with a soft clink.

A small sound.

Like something final breaking.

Irreversible.

I pushed open the infirmary door of the Silverclaw Pack and warm moonlight spilled out.

Haldrick was propped against the bed carved with protective runes, one arm wrapped tightly in healing bandages infused with lunar herbs. His wolf aura was calm, steady—as he leaned close, murmuring reassurance to Danella, who sat beside him with reddened eyes.

“I already told you,” he said softly, his voice unusually gentle. “This wasn’t your fault. I chose to move that fast.”

Danella sniffed, tears clinging to her lashes. “But if I hadn’t slipped on the steps, you wouldn’t have been injured…”

Her shoulders curled inward, her posture small, fragile—like she was afraid of taking up space.

Haldrick’s mother sat at the bedside, patting Danella’s hand fondly. “You’ve always been tender-hearted. Even as a pup, you cried for days after cracking a ceremonial bowl.”

She smiled nostalgically. “And Haldrick was so distant back then. If not for you, he never would’ve learned how to soften.”

His father laughed quietly. “True. You even cooked for him during your academy days. The food was terrible, but he ate every bite. Said he didn’t want to hurt you.”

“We all believed you two would end up as mates,” he added easily.

The room glowed with warmth—like a perfectly balanced pack unit.

I stood frozen at the doorway, gripping the basket of spirit-fruit until the woven handle dug into my palm.

For years, I had been the one tending Haldrick’s wounds, managing his duties as Alpha heir, caring for his parents through illness and ritual fasting. I had endured their indifference, smiled through their coldness.

And yet, not once had I been spoken to with this warmth.

Haldrick finally noticed me.

The gentleness in his eyes vanished instantly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked coolly.

Danella startled and hurried to her feet, bowing slightly. “Luna—Vireya, I’m sorry. Alpha Haldrick was hurt because of me.”

“Please don’t blame him. This was my mistake. I never meant—”

Her voice trembled, light and harmless, like a frightened bird.

Before I could reply, Haldrick stepped forward and placed himself squarely between us, shielding her without hesitation.

“Stop,” he said firmly. “This was my decision. Danella had nothing to do with it. Don’t direct your anger at her.”

His mother sighed, clearly displeased. “Don’t make trouble here. Haldrick chose to protect her. There’s no reason to be upset, understand?”

I looked at them—every single one standing instinctively on her side—and felt something twist sharply in my chest.

I smiled.

Not aloud. Just a thin, bitter curve of my lips.

As if I were the unreasonable ex-Luna. The jealous woman threatening an innocent she-wolf.

Danella stepped forward again, trying to speak. “Vireya—”

I cut her off with a calm smile sharp enough to wound.

“Be thankful you survived,” I said evenly. “I came to see that much for myself. That’s all. You may continue playing family.”

I turned and walked out.

“Vireya!” Haldrick called after me.

I didn’t slow.

Outside the ward, I pulled out my communicator rune and activated it. “Trevian?”

His familiar, warm voice answered. “That’s rare. Everything alright?”

I stared at the glowing sigils lining the corridor.

“I want to leave the pack residence,” I said quietly. “Can you help?”

“When?” he asked, without hesitation.

“This afternoon.”

***

Back in the infirmary, silence settled thickly.

Danella’s tears spilled over as she sobbed, “Did I make her angry? I swear, I never meant to…”

Haldrick’s mother squeezed her hand gently. “Sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. Haldrick wouldn’t have risked his life if you didn’t matter to him. Don’t blame yourself.”

His father nodded. “Exactly. Vireya has always been…sensitive.”

Haldrick said nothing, staring at the closed door, an unfamiliar pressure tightening in his chest.

“Haldrick…” Danella whispered. “The den I’m staying in isn’t safe. My former mate keeps finding me. I’m frightened.”

“Can I stay with you for a while? Like before… during academy?”

Before Haldrick could respond, his mother answered briskly, “Of course she can. Right?”

Haldrick hesitated.

He knew bringing an unmated she-wolf into a Luna’s territory was improper.

But when he saw the fear in Danella’s eyes, he finally said, “Fine. You can stay for now.”

***

That evening, he brought her home.

“She’ll stay temporarily,” he said. “Her territory isn’t secure. Don’t misunderstand. She’s only a friend.”

“Oh,” I replied simply, not looking at either of them.

Haldrick frowned, unsettled by my calm.

The old me would’ve argued, cried, demanded explanations.

But now, I watched Danella’s faintly swollen eyes as though separated by glass—detached, unmoved.

Then the door opened again.

Heavy footsteps echoed.

“Done hauling your things,” a familiar voice drawled. “You collect junk like you’re prepping for war.”

Trevian stepped inside, dragging two suitcases.

He crossed the room and casually wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“You owe me dinner,” he said with a grin. “The expensive kind.”

Haldrick’s aura darkened instantly.

“What is this?” he demanded coldly. “Vireya—explain.”

I didn’t react.

“What’s there to explain?” I said calmly. “Moving out of the Alpha residence isn’t something I can do alone. So I asked someone I trust to help.”

I still didn’t lift my head as I added, “Don’t be tense. You know Trevian. He’s pack-family to me.”

Haldrick’s jaw tightened, his throat bobbing as if words were stuck there.

After all, just yesterday, he’d told me Danella was “like a younger sister.”

Strange how harmless it sounded when it came from him—and how suspicious when it came from me.

Trevian glanced at Haldrick, lips curling slightly. “Dinner? Forget it. Save that for the celebration when the mating bond’s officially severed.”

“What did you just say?” Haldrick snapped, alpha pressure flaring.

I paused briefly.

“My cousin’s father and stepmother are dissolving their bond,” I replied evenly. “We’re throwing a feast to celebrate.”

Relief flickered across Haldrick’s face.

I felt it too—relief that he believed it.

Because in his world, I would never leave him.

I loved him too deeply… didn’t I?

The next morning, I woke later than usual.

When I descended the stairs, the great hall was already thick with the heavy scent of simmered meat broth. Danella sat at the long table, carefully ladling soup into a bowl, her expression gentle and earnest.

“Haldrick,” she said softly, “I remember you used to love rib stew like this. Back at the academy, you’d drink two bowls in one sitting. I kept it over the fire for three hours.”

Haldrick said nothing. He took a sip. Then another.

When his gaze rested on her, it softened—far more than it ever did with me.

He even allowed her to straighten his collar and adjust the clasp of his coat, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

I stopped at the foot of the stairs.

I had adjusted his cloak countless times—awkwardly, maybe, but always carefully. He used to brush my hands away, frowning, complaining I was too slow or that my scent bothered him.

Now?

He didn’t flinch.

Even though her hands were warm from cooking, even though they touched his collar directly.

I forced myself to look away and walked to the table.

I took a spoonful of the soup.

It was terrible.

The smell alone made my stomach churn and the taste burned down my throat. Still, I swallowed.

Seconds later, my body rebelled.

I sprang up and rushed to the sink, retching.

Behind me, Danella gasped. “Is it… that bad? Did I do something wrong? Should I leave?”

She twisted her apron nervously, eyes shimmering, voice trembling with guilt and innocence.

I wiped my mouth calmly. “I’m just not used to it. I’ll make something else later.”

Before I could return to my seat…

Clack!

Haldrick slammed his spoon down.

The sharp sound froze the room.

“She put effort into this,” he said coldly. “If you didn’t want it, you could’ve said so. There was no need to humiliate her. From now on, prepare your own meals.”

The words struck harder than a blow.

There was warning in his eyes—annoyance mixed with disgust.

I didn’t even feel anger.

I simply turned and walked into the kitchen.

Behind me, Danella whimpered softly, “Haldrick… maybe I overstepped. I shouldn’t have—”

He didn’t come after me.

Instead, he rested a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t think too much. She’s always been like this.”

I stopped.

My hands hovered above the cutting board, trembling.

He didn’t bother hiding it anymore.

For five years, I cooked until my hands blistered, memorized his tastes, studied recipe scrolls late into the night just for a single word of approval.

I never received it.

Danella boiled a pot of barely edible broth and it became “effort.”

He shielded her from me—as if I were the aggressor.

At the Alpha Tower, they stood side by side in the lift.

I stayed behind them and pressed the rune for my floor.

Other pack members entered, whispering without much care for secrecy.

“Did you see the recording yesterday? The Alpha nearly shifted to save that she-wolf!”

“They’re former academy mates, right? They look like a bonded pair.”

“I thought Alpha Nightreaver had a Luna already. Don’t tell me—it’s her?”

Danella’s cheeks flushed pink. She waved her hands lightly. “No, no. We’re just old classmates.”

The way she said it—soft, shy, fragile—was worse than admitting it outright.

She let their imaginations do the work.

Haldrick didn’t deny it.

I remembered once draping my cloak over his shoulders in the council hall. That night, he’d pulled me aside and said icily, This is official territory. Don’t create misunderstandings.

But now?

He stood there in silence while they assumed she was his mate.

I stepped out of the lift and walked straight to the administrative wing.

“I’d like to submit my resignation,” I said.

The clerk stared at me. “You’re stepping down?”

I placed the sealed letter on the desk. “Yes.”

She lowered her voice. “Is it because of… the new she-wolf? But I thought you were—”

I smiled faintly and said nothing.

Everyone in the pack had already decided who the real Luna was.

And it wasn’t me.

Just as she was about to speak again, a guard burst in. “There’s trouble at the front gate! Alpha Nightreaver is fighting for Danella!”

I ran.

A crowd had gathered near the boundary stones. Three or four rogue wolves circled Danella, one wielding an iron rod.

Haldrick stood before her, shielding her completely. Blood streamed from a cut above his brow.

“Get back!” he snarled, alpha aura flaring.

Then he charged—fighting bare-handed.

My heart nearly stopped.

I rushed forward, shouting, “Haldrick! Are you insane?! You’d die for her?!”

He turned sharply and shoved me aside.

“What—?” I gasped.

He stepped toward me, fury twisting his features.

“Vireya,” he demanded coldly, “was this your doing?”

My breath caught. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t lie,” he growled, teeth clenched. “You’ve always despised her. Is this your retaliation? Did you send these rogues after her?”