The next morning dawned pale and gray, the sun veiled behind thick clouds that dulled the land in muted tones. Even at dawn, the Silverfang territory pulsed with activity. Wolves bustled about the fortress-like pack hall, preparing for the return of Selene—the golden daughter who had supposedly come to “heal rifts” and strengthen alliances.

My body ached with exhaustion, the remnants of last night’s grief clinging like ash to my skin, but Lucien was already at my side before the sun fully rose. His arm wound tightly around my waist as though to tether me. To the pack, it was a sign of possessiveness. To me, it was a leash.

“Straighten your shoulders, Luna,” he murmured, lips brushing my ear. “They’re watching.”

The words burned. They always were watching—judging, weighing, waiting for me to falter. And Selene knew it.

By the time we approached the Silverfang pack hall, the air thrummed with anticipation. The hall was a fortress carved from black stone, its archways lined with torches that hissed and crackled despite the daylight. Wolves filled the wide steps, dressed in crimson, gold, and sable, their silks and jewels gleaming. The scent of roasted venison, boar, and honey cakes mingled with smoke, ale, and the underlying musk of restless wolves.

Every instinct screamed at me to turn away, but Lucien tightened his grip, steering me forward. His golden eyes gleamed with that prideful sharpness, the kind that said he was less escorting his Luna and more parading his property.

The great doors swung open.

A hush rippled through the gathered wolves, then soft murmurs—mocking rather than admiring. I caught the smirks of warriors I recognized from the night before, their eyes glinting with the knowledge of Lucien’s words. A few she-wolves tittered behind jeweled hands, laughter sharp as knives.

Lucien ignored it all. He pressed a kiss to my forehead for the crowd to see. The gesture looked tender. My stomach turned. His display wasn’t love—it was performance, a warning to the pack that I was his possession.

And then she appeared.

“Sister!”

Selene’s voice rang out, clear as a silver bell. The crowd parted for her as though the Moon Goddess herself walked among them. She glided forward in a crimson silk gown that shimmered like flame, jewels woven into her golden hair. Every step was measured, every glance purposeful, her beauty shining with weaponized precision.

When her eyes met mine, she smiled warmly—too warmly. Behind it, I saw the hunger, the glee at this stage she’d orchestrated.

She seized my hands, her palms soft but her grip iron. “Do you despise me so, Liora? We were raised as sisters. Yet not a single letter, not a single visit after you left. Have you truly forgotten me?”

I stiffened, her false sorrow cutting deeper than open malice.

Selene’s eyes shone with unshed tears, perfectly timed. “I am sorry, for monopolizing our parents’ love. But it was never my fault, was it? Love cannot be forced. Mother is dying, her heart weakening by the day, and you—her own daughter—never came to her bedside.”

A ripple of murmurs swept through the hall. Wolves stared, some with pity, others with open disdain.

My throat locked. My wolf bristled in protest, but my body refused to speak.

Lucien’s voice cut through, smooth as polished steel. “It is true. Liora struggles with bonds of family. When I have time, I will take her to see your parents, Selene. She will apologize properly.”

My heart plummeted, heavy and leaden. He knew. He knew the truth—that my parents had never truly been mine, that I had been the unwanted stray in their household, while Selene basked in their adoration. He knew I had been abandoned by blood and bond alike. And yet he sided with her, dismissing my pain for her performance.

Selene’s lips curved into a small, satisfied smile before she dabbed delicately at her eyes. “Thank you, Alpha. You are as generous as ever.”

The wolves around us nodded approvingly, some even sighing. Selene had stolen the moment, casting herself as the gracious victim, and me—the Luna—as nothing but a bitter shadow.

I excused myself quickly, murmuring something about needing air. My chest was too tight, my skin too raw under the weight of their stares.

I slipped down a long, quiet corridor lined with portraits of Silverfang Alphas past. Their painted eyes followed me, heavy with judgment. Each step echoed too loudly against the stone, the murmurs from the hall fading into silence.

And then, a voice slid through the quiet. Smooth. Venomous.

“Well, if it isn’t the forgotten pup.”

My breath caught.

Selene emerged from the shadows, her crimson gown whispering across the marble floor. A glass of red wine swirled lazily in her hand, the liquid catching the torchlight like blood.

She looked me over slowly, from the plain folds of my gown to the scuffed slippers I had chosen in haste. Her lips curled.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you raided an elder’s closet,” she purred. “Tell me, was that your grandmother’s dress?”

The words struck like claws to the gut. My grandmother—the only wolf who had ever shown me true love—was bedridden, her life draining away with each moonrise. Selene knew it. She wielded the knowledge like a blade.

She circled me leisurely, a predator toying with prey. “How does it feel, working yourself ragged in some filthy tavern while I lived as the cherished daughter of the Dawson family? Even now, your poor grandmother wastes away, her meager savings drained by your pathetic attempts to keep her alive.”

“Stop,” I whispered, trembling, claws pricking at my palms.

Her smirk sharpened. “Don’t look so shocked. Lucien tells me everything. Your failures. Your humiliations. How hard you work to please him. How desperately you dream of being loved.” She leaned closer, her breath hot against my ear. “He shares it all with me.”

The air rushed from my lungs. Only Lucien knew those things. Only he knew the depth of my sacrifices. And he had given them to her as gossip, as weapons.

Tears blurred my sight, but Selene’s face remained sharp. Cruel.

“You unlucky little wretch,” she sneered. “Why didn’t you stay gone? Why come back to take what was never yours?”

I shook my head, voice breaking. “You already have everything, Selene. Why torment me?”

Her laughter rang, cold and delighted. “Everything? You think I have everything while you sleep in Lucien’s bed?” She tilted her head, wolf’s fire flickering faintly in her eyes. “He was always mine. You’re nothing but a placeholder, a stand-in for the mate he truly wanted.”

Her words coiled like a serpent around my throat.

“Tonight,” she whispered, leaning close, “he will come to me. He will embrace me, kiss me, claim me—as he always has. Did you never wonder why he disappears on your mating anniversary? Fool. Those nights belonged to me.”

My stomach lurched violently, bile rising in my throat.

“That pink satin gown he gifted you last year?” Her smile spread, sharp and vicious. “I wore it first. He marked me while I wore it. Then he boxed it up and gave it to you, still warm with my scent.”

The world tilted. My heart cracked with each word.

“He says you are too tame, too dull to satisfy him. But me?” She licked her lips slowly, her eyes gleaming with triumph. “I give him everything he craves. Tonight, he’ll remember that.”

The corridor seemed to shrink around me. My wolf whimpered deep within, broken.

And in that moment, clarity cut through my despair like ice.

Every vow. Every kiss. Every whispered promise.

All lies.

Selene’s words clung to me like a curse.

He says you are too tame. Too dull. Too barren.

They wrapped around my throat, coiling tighter with every heartbeat, choking the air from my lungs. I could still see her lips curved in that triumphant smirk, still hear the silk in her voice as she whispered how Lucien had undressed her in the very gown he later gifted to me.

The memory of that cursed pink satin clung to my skin like ash. I had worn it with pride, trembling with joy when he called me beautiful. I had believed I was cherished. But the truth—Selene’s truth—burned the memory to ruins. That gown had smelled faintly of another because it had belonged to her first. His caresses, his whispered mine, his low growls of desire had not been mine to treasure. They had been rehearsed, echoes of what he had already given her.

“You lie,” I rasped, though my voice broke like brittle glass.

Selene’s smile deepened, her eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of a predator that has toyed with its prey until it can no longer stand. “Do I? Then watch him tonight. See where he goes. See whose bed he warms. He cannot resist me.”

And then—without warning—she tipped her glass.

The crimson wine spilled in a dark rush across my gown, staining the fabric like fresh blood. Gasps rose from nearby wolves as she gave a dainty cry, clutching her hand to her chest as though I had shoved her. The glass tumbled dramatically to the floor, shattering into sharp shards that scattered across the marble.

“Oh no,” she exclaimed, her eyes widening with mock dismay. “Clumsy me.”

Her lips twitched with amusement, the truth flashing there for only me to see. “Now you’ll look as much a mess as you are.”

Rage surged, hot and wild. My wolf pressed against my skin, scratching to be let out, to tear, to claw. My fists shook at my sides. For moons I had endured her cruelty, her veiled barbs and sharpened lies. But the weight of Lucien’s betrayal, her smugness, the laughter in her eyes—it broke something inside me.

Before I knew it, my hand shot forward, shoving her arm away.

Selene staggered back with a startled gasp that pierced the air. Her cry echoed through the corridor. She collapsed gracefully against the wall, clutching her wrist as though I had shattered her bones instead of brushing her sleeve.

Gasps erupted around us. Wolves turned, eyes wide, eager for spectacle.

And then his voice thundered through the hall.

“Liora!”

Alpha Lucien.

The crowd parted like water as he strode in, golden eyes blazing with fury, his presence crashing over us like a storm. His Alpha aura pressed down on the gathered wolves, silencing them, bending them to stillness. His gaze found me, and it seared like fire, hot and merciless.

“What have you done?” His tone was cold steel, every syllable a lash.

“I—” My voice faltered, splintered. “I didn’t—”

“It’s my fault,” Selene interrupted swiftly, her eyes brimming with tears that shone like jewels. She cradled her wrist delicately as though my touch had left her broken. “Please, don’t blame her. I should never have provoked her. Forgive her, Lucien, for my sake.”

The crowd’s murmurs swelled, their sympathy flowing toward her, their contempt settling heavy upon me. To them, I was the jealous Luna, violent and graceless, lashing out at the gracious sister who bore her cruelty with dignity.

“Why did you hurt her?” Lucien’s voice boomed, his Alpha authority weighing down on me like stone. The command trembled in his tone, forcing my wolf to whimper and bow within me.

“I didn’t!” My cry cracked in the air, desperate and raw, but drowned in Selene’s sobs.

He didn’t listen. He never listened.

Before I could gather breath, Lucien moved. He swept Selene up into his arms with terrifying ease, cradling her as though she were fragile glass. My chest cracked open at the sight—his tenderness, his protectiveness, the softness in his gaze. I had begged for that softness for years. He had never once shown it to me in public.

Selene sniffled, burying her face against his chest. “Please… don’t be harsh on her. She’s your Luna. She just doesn’t understand.”

The crowd shifted uneasily, some lifting their phones, their recording stones, their enchanted lenses. I saw the gleam of cruel delight in their eyes as they captured my humiliation, etching it permanently into memory.

Lucien’s jaw clenched. His pride was everything. And I, his Luna, had become a stain upon it.

“Enough!” His voice cut through the air like a blade. He shifted Selene gently into Marcus’s arms, his Beta, before seizing my wrist. His grip was iron, unyielding, burning my skin as he dragged me away from the crowd.

The hall blurred into stone and torchlight as he pulled me down a narrow passage. My feet stumbled, my lungs burning, until he shoved me into a small chamber once used as storage. The door slammed shut.

“Fetch the healer’s kit,” Selene’s sweet voice called from the doorway, her tone wrapped in false concern. “I’m sure Liora will be glad to help.”

Lucien turned, his gaze blazing, his shoulders tense with restrained fury. “You heard her. Get it.”

The words struck like a whip. My wolf whimpered inside me, caged and powerless under the Alpha command. My body trembled, my pride screaming—but my hands still obeyed. I moved numbly to the shelves, retrieving the kit with shaking fingers.

When I returned, Selene was seated on a chaise, her head nestled delicately against Lucien’s chest as though she belonged there. His arm curled around her, steadying her, protecting her.

My stomach twisted so violently I thought I might collapse.

“Massage her feet,” Lucien commanded.

The words froze me. “What?”

“You heard me,” he growled, his Alpha dominance slamming into me like a storm. My knees weakened under the weight of it. “Do it.”

My wolf whined in submission, but something deeper—my pride, my last fragile shard of self—fought back.

“No.” The word tore from my throat, weak but defiant.

His eyes narrowed dangerously, golden irises glowing with suppressed rage. “What did you say?”

“I will not!” My voice cracked, tears spilling freely.

The next moment, pain exploded across my body. He shoved me, hard. I hit the stone floor with a sickening thud, agony lancing through my abdomen. Instinct took over—I curled protectively around my belly, my hands flying to shield the fragile lives within me.

Fear ripped through me, sharper than pain. Not them. Goddess, please, not them.

Selene gasped, her tone dripping with false horror. “Alpha, don’t! She’s carrying your children!”

The chamber fell into stunned silence. My secret—my one fragile hope—was no longer mine.

Gasps rippled from the doorway as onlookers realized what she had revealed. My pregnancy, my last shield, stripped away with a single sentence.

Lucien’s eyes widened for the briefest heartbeat, then narrowed, his jaw tightening like stone. “Even if you carry my heirs, Liora, you will remember your place.”

My vision blurred. My tears fell like rain.

Selene’s voice slid through the silence, silken and cruel. “She deserves this, Lucien. She stole me from my family’s love, from your love. Don’t hold back on my account.”

“Selene,” Lucien snapped, though his gaze never left me. “She deserves worse.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. My voice shattered, raw and hoarse. “Stop pretending you care, Selene! Stop hiding behind your lies!”

The chamber split with the sharp crack of his hand against my face. My head snapped to the side, the sting burning like fire.

Silence followed. Heavy. Suffocating.

My tears dripped onto the cold stone floor. My pride lay shattered at my feet. My wolf whimpered weakly inside me, wounded beyond repair.

And in that silence, truth settled heavy in my chest.

There was no bottom to this humiliation. He would drag me lower, lower still, until nothing of me remained.

The sting of Lucien’s hand burned across my cheek, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth where my teeth had cut into my lip. The sound of the strike still echoed in my ears, louder than the laughter from the banquet hall, louder than the whispers of the wolves pressing close to the doorway.

For a heartbeat, Lucien froze, his chest rising and falling sharply. His golden eyes—so cold, so merciless—flickered with something unreadable. Was it guilt? Shock at his own violence? Or simply annoyance that others had seen him lose control?

“Liora—” he began, his voice strained.

I flinched back instantly, clutching my belly as if his very touch might seep into my unborn pups. My wolf snarled faintly inside, weak but unwilling to cower completely.

His hand hovered in the air, trembling slightly, as though he wished to reach for me. But I couldn’t bear it. His palm was branded into my skin like fire.

“Don’t,” I whispered, my voice hoarse, broken.

Selene was faster. She slipped gracefully between us, her body language flowing like silk, her expression a perfect portrait of grief. Tears streaked down her flawless cheeks, catching the torchlight like liquid diamonds.

“This is my fault,” she wept, clutching Lucien’s arm as if to steady him. “Please—don’t blame her. I provoked her. I should have known better. Forgive her, Alpha, for my sake.”

The wolves at the door murmured. Their gazes softened toward her and hardened against me. In their eyes, Selene was merciful, gentle, magnanimous. And I—the Luna—was jealous, violent, unworthy.

Lucien’s jaw clenched. His gaze returned to me, hard and weighing.

“If you apologize to Selene,” he said slowly, each word deliberate, “I will forget this ever happened.”

A hush fell. Every wolf leaned closer, waiting, hungry. They wanted the Luna to bow. They wanted me broken.

The words sat on my tongue like poison. My pride screamed against them, but the pups in my womb twisted within me, reminding me that survival sometimes meant swallowing venom.

Selene stepped forward, folding her hands over her chest in a saint’s gesture. “You don’t have to,” she whispered sweetly. “I never wished to divide you. Please, don’t humiliate yourself for my sake.”

Her voice was honey. Her eyes were knives.

I said nothing. Silence was my last act of defiance.

Her lips curved almost imperceptibly before she turned back to Lucien, bowing her head. “I’ll go. I’ll give you two space. Don’t be too hard on her. She’s… fragile.”

She left in a flutter of crimson silk, her shadow long and triumphant across the wall.

Lucien stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then his voice dropped, low and sharp. “Go home, Liora. I will not come to you tonight. You’ve disappointed me.”

Something inside me snapped.

Three years of sacrifice. Three years of silence. Three years of giving everything I had—my body, my pride, my heart. And it meant nothing.

I stumbled from the chamber, my cheek throbbing, my vision blurred. The corridors twisted around me until I reached the east wing, where the noise of the feast dimmed and shadows stretched long. I pressed my hand to my belly, whispering desperately to my pups.

“I’ll keep you safe. No matter what.”

But the Goddess seemed to mock me. Because then I heard it.

A low, breathless moan.

I froze. The sound slid through the air, intimate, unmistakable. My wolf whimpered, urging me to turn away. But some cruel force dragged me forward, each step heavy, until I stood before a half-open door.

The scent hit me first—musk, heat, wolf desire thick in the air. My hands trembled. I pushed the door open wider.

And I saw them.

Lucien’s body pressed against Selene’s, his hands tangled in her golden hair. His lips devoured hers hungrily, his growl low and primal. Selene writhed against him, her legs hooked around his waist, her nails clawing at his back as though she were branding him with her touch.

My heart stopped. My blood froze.

“Take off your ring,” Selene purred between kisses, her lips swollen, her eyes gleaming with triumph.

“No,” Lucien growled back, his voice rough with desire. “Forbidden makes it sweeter. If only Liora was half as enticing as you…”

The world shattered.

I staggered back, bile rising in my throat. Memories assaulted me—every vow, every whispered mine, every night I had bled myself dry to keep him alive. The organ I had given him to save his life. The endless shifts at the tavern to fund his ambitions. The sleepless nights nursing him back from death.

And still, it wasn’t enough.

Claiming me wasn’t enough. Humiliating me wasn’t enough. He needed to desecrate the bond itself, to strip me until nothing remained.

My gaze dropped to my hand. The silver band glinted faintly in the torchlight, mocking me. The mark of our union. The proof of my chains.

It burned.

With trembling fingers, I clawed it off. The metal bit into my skin, drawing blood. A drop slid down my palm, scarlet and sharp, but the pain was freeing.

I set the ring on a nearby table, its cold gleam hollow.

This was the end.

I turned and walked away, each step unsteady but resolute, my tears blurring the path ahead.

The mate bond still throbbed faintly in my chest, but something deeper had broken. Something that no vow, no ritual, no Alpha command could repair.

The Luna of the Silverfang Pack was dead.

Only Liora remained.