Slowly, I had been pushed to the edge of collapse.

I started fighting back the same way he had.

I took a young Alpha-born from the Royal Academy under my wing. Sylvia Stormcrest.

At first, it was nothing more than spite.

But he would call me "sister" in that gentle voice, would coax me with patience, would appear at my side the moment I was most helpless.

The night of the carriage wreck, I lay in the Healers' Lodge, and he stayed beside me, his eyes red-rimmed, accompanying me through every examination the moon-healers ordered.

He was clean, untainted. Like a shaft of light carrying no impurity at all.

Over time, my heart, torn open and riddled with wounds, was somehow mended by him, piece by careful piece.

I had thought about giving him a den, giving him gold moons.

But he wanted none of it.

He wanted only a name. A place beside me that the packs would recognize.

"Sister, leave him. Reject the bond. Try me."

He looked at me, his gaze clear and steady, as if those eyes had room for no one else in the world.

In those eyes, the version of me reflected back was not the broken, pitiful creature I felt myself to be. She was glowing.

In that moment, something finally clicked into place.

When a thing is broken, you replace it. Even pups understand that. Yet I had wasted so many years bleeding inside this moon-oath union.

My entanglement with Kael Blackthorne had been nothing more than slow self-destruction.

So I agreed.

Agreed to be with Sylvia Stormcrest.

And decided to end this wreckage of a mating once and for all.

Kael had barely left the den when my communicator chimed with a crystal-screen call from Sylvia.

On the screen, he wore a clean white shirt, moving through a kitchen with quiet ease. Soft hair fell across his forehead, his lashes impossibly long. He looked clean and gentle, and the faint scent of rain cedar seemed to drift through the connection even though I knew that was only my imagination.

"Sister, is the bond rejected?"

I was older than him. I had been through more than he could guess. And still, every time I saw that face, my pulse quickened without my permission.

I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to sound casual.

"The agreement is signed. One more moon cycle, and he and I will have no connection left."

He listened, and his lips curved slowly upward. His voice came low, carrying a thread of pleasure he couldn't quite suppress.

"Since there's no connection left, then during this time, sister is not allowed to let him touch her."

His tone was light when he said it, but underneath ran a thread of possessiveness that left no room for argument.

"When the time comes, I'll be checking."

I hadn't expected those words from him. Heat crept across my cheeks, but I kept my expression flat, scolding him with a straight face. "What nonsense is a pup like you saying?"

He watched me through the crystal screen, his gaze carrying open, undisguised possessiveness, yet in the next breath he pressed it down, his voice turning wounded and clinging. "Sister, I'm only young in years. In other ways... I'm not small at all."

My chest tightened. Afraid the conversation would spiral somewhere I couldn't control, I cut him off, coaxing him with a few soft words until he finally settled down and ended the call.

This young wolf was perfect in every way. Except that he clung too tightly.

The moment the call ended, I went out and bought a calendar.

For the next moon cycle, I lived by tearing off pages, counting the days on my fingers.

Every day that passed, I ripped away one more sheet.

From the first of October to the tenth, Kael did not come back to the den once.

But where he went, who he saw, what he did, I knew with perfect clarity.

His new fascination, Vesper Duskmere, was an intern within his pack's territory house. Every day, she posted traces of them together on the pack channel, casual and deliberate at the same time, as if making sure everyone would notice.

Afternoon tea at high-end dens. Leisurely rounds at the hunting grounds.

Standing on the terrace of a mountain estate, looking out over the lights of the city below. Sharing the hot springs at some private lodge, playing in the steam.

Strange, really. With Kael's usual restless nature, he never lingered on any one she-wolf for long. The women who had come and gone before, the longest had lasted maybe a moon cycle before he grew bored.

But this Vesper Duskmere had already lasted three months, and he still hadn't grown tired of her.

Perhaps it was precisely that unusual "longevity" that gave her the nerve. She no longer kept to her place like the other she-wolves. She'd even added me on the pack channel directly, using that quiet, deliberate way of hers to test boundaries, to provoke.

But I didn't take it to heart.

I'd already decided to seek a bond rejection. Why bother with these petty games.

Over the next few days, with nothing else to do, I cleaned the den from top to bottom.

The grooming blades I'd carefully selected for him. The formal coats he wore every day, the ones I'd pressed by hand. The limited-edition moon-phase timepiece I'd stayed up all night to claim at a moonlit auction.

No matter how much or how little something was worth, if I had given it to him, I packed it up and threw it out.

What I discarded along with it was every bit of grievance from this mating, and every piece of the heart I'd once given without reservation.

I had made up my mind. A clean break from the past. A fresh start.

Two more days passed before he finally came back.

He stood in the main hall, looking at the estate that was noticeably emptier, and his brow furrowed. "Clara, you threw out my things?"

I flipped through the journal in my hands without looking up. "I did."

"I bought them. I can toss them if I want. Is there a problem? Besides, you never come back to the den. No point keeping things no one uses."

He clearly assumed I was still angry about what happened last time, that this was just me lashing out.

He walked over and sat beside me, his tone carrying that careless, offhand reassurance. "Didn't we agree a long time ago? We each do as we please outside these walls, no real feelings for anyone else. Why are you getting worked up over this again?"

The same old line.

No matter what he did, he could always find a reason to excuse himself. And I, his Luna in name only, could only silently absorb every hurt he brought, until even voicing a single complaint felt like too much.

But now, I no longer wanted to get tangled up in these meaningless things with him.

I closed the journal and stood, heading for the stairs. My voice was cold, without a trace of warmth. "You're overthinking it. I don't care at all."

He took that as me pretending not to care, and immediately stood to catch my hand.

Under my impatient gaze, he pulled an invitation from his coat and placed it in my palm.

"Stop being angry. Tomorrow I'll take you to the auction. Whatever catches your eye, bid on it. A chance to unwind. Alright?"

My first instinct was to refuse.

But when my eyes landed on the Silvercrest Auction House crest on the invitation, I changed my mind.

I was going to leave him anyway. Spending his gold moons to buy myself something nice didn't seem like a loss.

So I nodded.

At five in the afternoon, his car pulled up in front of the estate right on time.

I picked up my bag and came downstairs, reaching for the door, and saw a familiar face.

Vesper Duskmere.

She was clutching a large bag of snacks and drinks, settled firmly in the front passenger seat, smiling at me with a look that was all wide-eyed innocence.

"Luna, I get a little motion-sick. Would you mind terribly sitting in the back today?"

The flash of triumph at the bottom of her eyes didn't escape me. I lowered my gaze, and in my peripheral vision caught the ornament hanging from the mirror.

It was a custom charm, a small crystal wolf with a ribbon, and etched along the ribbon was a line of script.

Little Princess Vesper's Exclusive Seat.

I said nothing. I didn't move aside.

Kael seemed to sense my mood, and once again, with that low, impatient coaxing tone, tried to smooth things over.

"Vesper's never been to an auction before. I'm just showing her around. She's delicate, Clara. Give way to her."

Give way?

Of course I could.

I'd already decided I didn't even want the man anymore. A seat in his car was nothing worth fighting over.

I let out a quiet laugh, said nothing, and turned to sit in the back.

The whole ride, Vesper was like a bird that never tired of singing. She nibbled on cakes and snacks, scooping bites with her own spoon and feeding them to Kael. She made no effort to hide the intimacy, and he made no effort to refuse it. They talked about everything and nothing. Every pout, every playful word from her lips earned a slow, indulgent smile at the corner of his mouth.

From start to finish, I didn't spare either of them a single glance. I just cracked the window and watched the cold autumn landscape slide past, the wind slipping in with a faint chill that settled against my skin.

After the car stopped, we'd barely walked a few steps before Vesper wrinkled her brow and whimpered that her heels were hurting her feet. Kael laughed and called her spoiled, but without a moment's hesitation, he steered her toward the nearest boutique. He crouched down himself, trying pair after pair on her feet, checking the give of each sole with careful, gentle hands.

I stood off to one side watching this scene, and a memory surfaced from half a moon ago.

That night, I'd been burning with fever so high my thoughts had gone blurry, my whole body feeling like it had been scorched through. All I'd asked was for him to pour me a glass of water. He hadn't even lifted his head. Just refused, cold as iron.

So this was how stark the difference between people could be. The one held at the heart was treated like a princess. The treatment was never the same.

But once, I had been the one he cradled in his palms.

Back then, I'd tested him on purpose, told him that if he could bring me the red bean cakes from the southern district, I'd consider being with him. The southern district was half the city away from my family's den, and that day a heavy snow was falling. Anyone could see it was an impossible task.

But he said nothing. Just got in the car and left.

Five full hours.

In the end, he pulled the pastry from inside his coat, still warm, and held it out to me. His eyes were completely serious.

Afterward, I wondered countless times: if the love at the beginning had been real, why did it change so fast?

Now I understood.

He hadn't changed. I just hadn't seen clearly before. Hadn't seen his restless nature, hadn't seen what kind of wolf he truly was. A restless wolf never stops for anyone.

I laughed quietly to myself, took the invitation, and walked into the auction hall ahead of them.

The first lot had already opened for bidding by the time Kael arrived with Vesper, fashionably late.

The auction ran alongside the evening feast. The tables were spread with elaborate sweets and fat, glistening seasonal crab, the rich scent of buttered shell filling the warm air. The moment Vesper sat down, she spotted the platter of crab and tugged at Kael's arm, saying she wanted some right now. He gave a helpless smile, straightened her skirt for her, waved off the den attendant's offer to help, and picked up the tools himself, prying the meat and golden roe free bit by careful bit. His movements were practiced and patient. When he was done, he set the plate in front of her. Vesper looked up at him, her eyes full of adoration and dependence.

I just watched it all in silence.

After the crab, she pointed casually at a set of emerald jewelry on the stage. Kael didn't hesitate. He raised his paddle.

"Bidder seventeen. Three hundred million gold moons."

The words fell, and the entire hall went silent before erupting into murmurs. No one dared bid higher. Sharp intakes of breath rippled through the crowd on every side.

Soon the feast entered its intermission. Guests carrying crystal glasses drifted toward our table, eager to make connections. They watched the way Kael doted on Vesper, and naturally assumed she was the lady of the house. "Mrs. Blackthorne" this, "Luna" that, the titles flowing without pause.

Only then did Kael lift his gaze and look at me. A single, flat glance.

"You have the wrong one. She is my mate."