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?”

My world lurched sideways.

I stared at him, disbelief tearing through my chest. “You think I’d sink that low?”

Haldrick didn’t avert his gaze.

“You’re clever,” he said coldly. “You know how pack politics work. Stirring up rogues wouldn’t be difficult for someone like you.” His voice sharpened. “I never realized how vicious you truly were.”

“Stop!” I screamed.

Pain detonated in my chest, stealing my breath.

“You think this is about jealousy?” I cried. “That I’d hire rogues just because you protected her? Haldrick, I have never stooped that far.”

His eyes hardened. “The entire pack knows you despise her. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

I laughed—short, hollow and freezing.

“She sheds a tear and the whole world shields her. I tighten my jaw once and I’m a monster?” My voice trembled. “You only see her. You always have.”

For a moment, he faltered—then Danella clutched his sleeve.

“Haldrick,” she said softly, eyes brimming, “don’t argue. It’s not worth it. This is my fault. I… I panicked because back in the academy, she once had others intimidate me.”

That was it.

The final spark.

I lifted my chin, voice sharp as broken ice. “You think I’d waste my time plotting against you?”

I turned to Danella, eyes blazing. “If I’d wanted you gone back then, you wouldn’t have survived initiation—let alone stolen my mate.”

“Enough!” Haldrick roared.

His hand came down.

The sound cracked like thunder.

My cheek burned as I stumbled backward, crashing onto the stone ground. My palms scraped raw, blood seeping through torn skin.

He… hit me?

Haldrick didn’t help me up.

He didn’t even look at me.

Instead, he turned and swept Danella into his arms, holding her as though she were fragile glass. He carried her away, the car door slamming shut like a final judgment.

He left me there.

Discarded.

A sharp, unbearable pain exploded in my abdomen.

I staggered forward—and warmth spilled down my legs.

“Miss! You’re bleeding!” someone screamed, rushing toward me. “You’re losing too much blood!”

I tried to say it was nothing.

I couldn’t.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

***

The healer’s wing was a blur of white light and frantic voices.

“She’s hemorrhaging!”

“Where’s her bonded mate? We need his consent—now!”

“She’s married, but the Alpha isn’t answering. We’ve tried repeatedly.”

“If we wait any longer, the pup won’t survive!”

The words drifted around me like water.

My body felt distant, fractured, no longer my own.

My chest felt heavy, my throat burning as though lined with glass.

I forced my arm up and gripped the healer’s sleeve with the last of my strength.

“I’ll sign,” I rasped. “Release the pup. I don’t want… I can’t keep it.”

The words fell like stones.

The healer froze. “Are you certain?”

I nodded, biting back a scream as tears finally slipped free.

The ritual chamber was freezing, far colder than moonstone walls should allow. The scent of herbs and silver filled the air. Tools clinked softly as they were laid out.

“Stay still,” a nurse murmured. “It will be over soon.”

The sedative hadn’t fully taken hold.

I felt everything.

Every pull. Every burn.

I bit my lip until blood filled my mouth, swallowing the sob I refused to release.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered silently. “I’m sorry, little one.”

You weren’t born of love.

You were an obligation—a demand from an Alpha’s bloodline.

I couldn’t bring you into a den where your father would never look at you the way he looked at another.

Letting you go… was the only mercy I had left.

***

When I woke, the pain was dull but constant.

My stomach felt hollow—empty in a way that went beyond flesh.

No one sat beside my bed.

Not even him.

I hadn’t expected him to come.

But somewhere deep inside, I had hoped.

Reality answered clearly.

Haldrick never came.

Not for the blood.

Not for the screams.

Not for the life he never knew existed.

My communicator buzzed on the bedside table.

A new post from Danella.

With shaking fingers, I opened it.

The images sliced through me.

There they were—Danella and Haldrick at Moonfall Glades, wearing matching enchanted ears shaped like cartoon mice. He was smiling, laughing softly as she clung to his arm.

They looked happy.

I remembered begging him once.

“Please, Haldrick,” I’d laughed. “Just once. I want to go to Moonfall Glades. I want the silly headbands and overpriced sugarfloss.”

He’d always frowned. “That place is childish.”

Yet here he was.

For her.

My chest tightened until I couldn’t breathe.

Letting go of Haldrick hurt like tearing out my own spine.

He wasn’t just my mate.

He was my childhood longing, my teenage dream, my entire youth bound to one cold Alpha.

But I was done lying to myself.

I pitied myself.

I turned off the screen, catching my reflection—pale, hollow-eyed, lifeless.

A new message arrived.

From the legal scribe.

[The dissolution of the mating bond is nearly complete. We can arrange the final signing tomorrow.]

I stared at the words.

And for the first time—

I didn’t cry.