The door slammed behind me as I stumbled into the cold night, the stone walls of the pack hall still vibrating with laughter and music, as though nothing had shattered. As though my entire world hadn’t just burned to ash.
The silver ring no longer weighed on my finger, but its absence throbbed like a phantom wound. My hand felt raw, stripped bare, like a piece of myself had been torn away.
I walked blindly through the forest, following familiar paths until the pack’s fortress was just a shadow against the moonlit horizon. My legs carried me to the cottage on the outskirts of Silverfang territory—the place Lucien had once brought me when we were newly mated. Back then, it had felt like a sanctuary, a nest for our future. Now the ivy-choked beams and sagging roof mocked me with the ghosts of promises never meant to be kept.
Inside, the air was stale with dust, the hearth long cold. I ran my fingers along the wooden table where he had once kissed me, where I had once whispered dreams of pups and peace. My chest ached so violently that I pressed my palm against it, as if I could hold the pieces of my heart together.
But Selene’s voice followed me still, sharp and cruel.
He says you are too tame. Too dull. Too barren.
He marked me while I wore the gown he gifted to you.
“Stop,” I whispered, clutching my head, but the memories clung to me like tar.
My stomach cramped. Hunger gnawed at me, and I realized I hadn’t eaten since the morning. The pups stirred restlessly, reminding me of the lives that still clung to me, fragile but fierce.
“For you,” I murmured, forcing my limbs to move. I opened the small cupboard and pulled out stale bread, dried fruit, a bit of smoked venison. My hands shook as I forced myself to eat, every bite heavy as stone. Each time I swallowed, I whispered an apology. “Forgive me, little ones. Your mother has nothing left to give but this.”
When the food was gone, I lit a single candle. Its flame flickered weakly, casting shadows that seemed to jeer at me. My mind raced. I couldn’t survive like this. If I stayed, Lucien would destroy me piece by piece. And worse—he would destroy them.
No. Not anymore.
I opened the drawer where I had hidden the communication stone, its runes faint but steady. My grandmother had pressed it into my hands years ago, urging me to keep it for emergencies. I whispered the name of the only person I still trusted.
The stone pulsed, and a warm, steady voice answered. “Liora?”
Lyra. My old colleague, a wolf-lawyer who had once fought for the weak in pack courts.
Tears blurred my eyes. “I need… a separation contract. Tonight.”
There was silence, then a sharp inhale. “You’ve finally decided?”
My throat ached, but I forced the words out. “Yes.”
“I’ll draft it within hours,” she said firmly. “You’ll need to sign it in blood to make it binding under pack law. Do you want to claim custody?”
I pressed both hands to my belly, my pups shifting within. “Yes. They’re mine. He doesn’t deserve them.”
Her voice softened. “Stay strong. I’ll send a raven before dawn.”
When the connection faded, I collapsed onto the table, sobbing into my arms until the candle sputtered low.
---
By dawn, the raven arrived. Its black feathers gleamed in the pale light as it tapped at the window. Tied to its leg was a sealed envelope marked with Lyra’s crest.
My hands trembled as I broke it open, unrolling the parchment. The runes glowed faintly: Severance of Mating Bond. Custody of heirs. Division of property.
My chest tightened as I pricked my finger with a pin. A bead of blood welled, and I pressed it to the parchment. The runes flared, binding.
It was real. The bond was severed in law.
Tears streamed silently down my cheeks as I cradled my stomach. “We’re free,” I whispered. “I’ll protect you. I promise.”
---
At noon, boots thundered against the wooden steps. My blood ran cold.
Lucien filled the doorway, tall and commanding, his presence overwhelming the small cottage. He carried a bouquet of white moonlilies, their petals glowing faintly with lunar magic. Once, I would have wept at such a gift. Now they felt like mockery.
“Liora,” he said smoothly, his lips curving into a smile he had once reserved for me alone. “I came to make peace. Last night was… unworthy of us both.”
I accepted the bouquet in silence and set it aside without water. His smile faltered.
“You embarrassed me,” he said, his tone hardening though he still tried to coat it in charm. “You’ll apologize to Selene and the others. You’ll prepare a feast to show your remorse. That will settle it.”
My lips trembled. “I apologize,” I whispered.
He blinked, startled, as though he hadn’t expected me to yield so easily.
“I apologize,” I repeated, my voice breaking, “for forgetting my place.”
His golden eyes softened, confusion flickering. He mistook my words for surrender, when in truth they were farewell.
I turned to the kitchen, moving automatically, preparing his favorite dishes—the same ones I had made a hundred times. Venison stew, rich with herbs. Honeyed bread baked golden. Elderberry wine chilled with river stones.
When I set the table, his pride swelled. He ate heartily, his voice almost tender.
“This is why I chose you,” he said. “You’re obedient. Loyal. You know your duty. After you apologize, everything will return to normal.”
I forced a smile, hollow and brittle, as I raised a spoonful of stew to my lips.
But deep inside, my wolf howled.
He truly believed I would stay. He truly believed his chains were unbreakable.
But my blood had already sealed my escape.
This was not our meal.
This was our last supper.
The morning after our “last supper,” the cottage was heavy with silence. Sunlight streamed weakly through the windows, golden streaks falling across the table where Lucien’s empty dishes still sat. The air still carried the scent of venison and honey, but it clung to me like rot, a reminder of the hollow charade I had endured one final time.
I scrubbed the plates with shaking hands, my stomach churning. Each scrape of pottery against stone felt like peeling away a layer of myself. My wolf paced within me, restless, her claws raking at my insides. She knew. She wanted to run.
When Lucien descended the stairs, dressed in his Alpha leathers, his eyes gleamed with satisfaction. To him, last night had reset the scales. To him, I was once again his obedient Luna, the silent shadow at his side.
“Perfect,” he murmured, brushing a fleeting kiss across my temple. “Selene will be pleased. I told her you’ll apologize tonight before the whole pack. Cook her favorites—she adores spiced pheasant. You’ll serve her well, won’t you, Liora?”
I nodded faintly, my lips curling into what he believed was agreement. Inside, my heart was ash.
When he left, the cottage grew cavernous, suffocating. I moved through the rooms on autopilot—folding clothes, sweeping the hearth, laying out herbs to dry. Every task was a ritual I had performed a thousand times, but now, each action carried a silent vow.
This is the last time.
The last time I serve him.
The last time I live as his Luna.
By mid-afternoon, Lucien returned briefly. He carried a small, wrapped box. His smile was practiced, polished.
“Your birthday gift,” I said, handing it to him with trembling fingers.
He accepted it easily, brushing his lips across my forehead. “Good girl.”
The words scraped across my skin like claws.
Upstairs, he retreated to his study, leaving the door ajar. I hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but his voice carried—low, smooth, intimate in a way it had not been with me for years.
“Don’t stress, baby,” Lucien said, his tone dripping with warmth that cut me like a blade. “Yes, she gave me some trinket. I pretended to like it.”
My blood iced.
“She’ll cook whatever you want tonight,” he continued, a smirk audible in his voice. “After that, I’ll be rid of her. Then we’ll celebrate properly—just you and me.”
The air thickened, pressing on my lungs.
He laughed, a husky, affectionate sound I had never earned. “Of course I miss you. She won’t fight—she never does. I’ll make her sign whatever papers are necessary. She’s too weak to resist.”
The words sliced deeper than any slap, any command. She never fights. She never does. That was how he saw me. Not as Luna. Not as mate. Just a weak thing, too broken to claw free.
I staggered from the doorway, one hand clamped over my mouth to stifle the sob clawing up my throat. My vision blurred. My knees nearly buckled.
How blind I had been. How foolish.
---
By dawn, my decision was carved in stone.
I packed quietly, shoving a few belongings into a leather satchel—simple cloaks, dried meats, healing herbs, the last of my grandmother’s coins. At the bottom, I placed the blood-sealed separation papers, their faint runes glowing like embers. My chest ached as I touched them.
This was real. The law no longer bound me to him.
I stood for a long moment at the window, watching Lucien’s sleeping form in the bed. His face was calm, boyish almost, framed by dark hair. For a heartbeat, memories clawed at me: the boy who had carried me through storms, the Alpha who had once sworn to protect me.
But those vows had rotted.
I pressed my palm to my belly, feeling the faint flutter of life within. My pups. My future.
“No more,” I whispered fiercely. “I won’t let you chain them as you chained me.”
I slipped out into the gray dawn, the air crisp, the forest alive with birdsong. Each step away from the Alpha’s house felt like tearing off shackles.
---
By mid-morning, I reached the healer’s wing of the compound. My grandmother lay pale against the cot, her breathing shallow, her once-bright eyes dulled by years of illness. When she saw me, her lips trembled, tears welling.
“Child,” she rasped, her hand trembling as she reached for mine. “What did they do to you?”
I collapsed at her side, clutching her frail fingers. “I can’t stay, Grandma. I’ve decided. I’m leaving Silverfang. I’ll take the pups far away—over the mountains, across the sea, anywhere the bond can’t reach.”
Her breath hitched. “At last, you’ve found your courage. Oh, my sweet girl…” Her voice broke into sobs. She stroked my hair with a hand that shook. “The Goddess will guide your steps. Go, before it’s too late.”
Her blessing steadied me. I pressed a kiss to her fragile hand, tears slipping down my cheeks.
Before I left, I entrusted a sealed parcel to Mira, one of the kitchen wolves who had always been quietly kind to me. Inside lay coin, records, and a final letter.
“If he comes looking,” I told her, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest, “give this to him. It will be enough.”
She clasped my hands tightly. “Run, Liora. Run and don’t look back.”
---
When Lucien awoke later that morning, he assumed I had risen early to prepare his meals. He didn’t even check. He simply sent a list through the pack link, demanding spiced pheasant for Selene’s feast that evening.
I severed the link, the mental thread snapping like a frayed rope. For the first time in years, his voice was gone from my head. The silence that followed was like breathing clean air.
“I’m done,” I whispered to the trees as I walked deeper into the woods. My wolf pressed against my skin, howling softly in agreement.
---
That night, the Alpha’s mansion blazed with revelry. Selene glittered in silver silk, radiant under chandeliers, every eye upon her as though she were already Luna.
“Alpha, where is your Luna?” one wolf asked.
Lucien’s jaw tightened, irritation flashing in his golden eyes. He reached for the pack link again, calling my name.
Silence.
Harder now, sharper with Alpha force. Still silence.
For the first time in years, unease flickered in his gaze. The voice that had always answered, the presence he had always commanded—was gone.
And though he did not yet understand it, his Luna had slipped from his grasp.
Forever.
