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."

The air froze solid.

The smiles on their faces locked in place, and they stumbled over themselves to correct the mistake, words tripping out in awkward, half-formed apologies.

I didn't speak. I didn't acknowledge the glances they cast my way, some startled, some pitying.

They hadn't been wrong, really.

Soon enough, I wouldn't be the Blackthorne Luna at all.

With how Kael Blackthorne doted on Vesper Duskmere now, perhaps the moment the bond rejection decree was finalized, he'd bring her into the ancestral den and claim her before the pack.

After the intermission, the auction shifted to bloodline relics and antiquities. I had no interest in any of it. I placed bids on a few of the most expensive pieces without really looking at them, then stood and left my seat.

I had just reached the corridor leading to the grand stairwell when a saccharine voice floated up behind me.

"Luna, do you have a moment to talk?"

I had barely stopped walking, hadn't even started to respond, when I saw Vesper Duskmere raise her hand.

The next second.

A sharp crack.

A slap landed hard across my face.

For a moment, my mind went completely blank.

She had put her full strength behind it. Heat blazed across my cheek in an instant, my ears rang with a high, buzzing whine, and every thought emptied out of my head.

I pressed my hand to my face on instinct, almost unable to react at all.

When awareness came flooding back, rage surged up like something feral.

"Vesper Duskmere, what are you doing!"

I raised my hand to strike back.

But before the blow could land, a hand caught my wrist.

Kael Blackthorne.

He seized my wrist in a crushing grip, hard enough to make my fingers go numb. His Alpha aura pressed outward, a cold, heavy pulse that made the air around us thicken.

His voice carried open displeasure.

"Clara, Vesper hasn't provoked you. Why would you hit her?"

I froze for a single heartbeat, then wrenched my arm free, my voice trembling beyond my control.

"I hit her? Kael Blackthorne, ask anyone standing here who struck first!"

The words had barely left my mouth before Vesper's eyes reddened. Tears gathered fast, spilling to the edges, and she shrank into herself with a look of such wounded innocence it was almost artful.

Her voice came out soft and quivering.

"Kael, you're the one who said I was too timid, that I should find chances to toughen up. I thought about it for a long time before I decided that slapping the Blackthorne Luna in front of everyone would be the greatest challenge I could find. Otherwise I truly couldn't think of an opportunity."

Her voice grew smaller, more pitiful with every word.

"But the Luna was so fierce just now. I was frightened…"

Her tears fell one after another, like beads dropping from a snapped string.

After hearing her out, Kael frowned.

"Telling you to build courage doesn't mean you can hit someone."

Especially not me.

But the reproach in his voice was so faint it barely carried weight at all.

Vesper sniffled, crying harder now.

"I'm sorry. I was too foolish. You said the Luna had a gentle temper. I thought even if I hit her, she wouldn't get angry. I didn't expect…"

She trailed off into a choked, trembling whimper, her distress so exaggerated it bordered on performance.

Kael's expression softened completely.

His heart had cracked open for her. He forgot any thought of blame, one hand wiping the tears from her cheeks, his voice low and coaxing.

"All right, all right. No one blames you. Stop crying. Be good."

I stood there, watching this scene, and felt my chest go cold in slow, spreading waves.

Anger and hurt churned together, rising until I couldn't hold the words back any longer.

"Kael Blackthorne, I'm the one who was struck. What right do you have to forgive her on my behalf? And Vesper Duskmere, what innocence are you performing? Who decides to slap someone as a way to build courage?"

My voice climbed higher than I could rein in.

Vesper flinched at the sound, her crying worsening until she could barely breathe, gasping as though she might collapse at any moment.

Kael's heart broke for her entirely.

The look he turned on me held an edge of impatience now, his tone careless.

"She's a young she-wolf. One slap from her, how much force could it possibly carry? Do you really need to make this much of it? She's already so guilt-ridden she's about to cry herself unconscious. Clara, enough."

With that, he swept Vesper Duskmere up into his arms and turned away without another glance.

I stood frozen in place, as if the ground beneath me had turned to ice.

In that moment, I truly could not believe those words had come from his mouth.

The cold crept up from somewhere deep inside my chest, spreading outward through every vein, as though I had been dropped into a frozen lake. Somewhere beneath my ribs, my wolf had gone silent. Not sleeping. Not retreating. Just silent, in the way a wounded animal goes still when the pain is too large to fight.

How I got back to the den, I couldn't remember.

The whole way, I clenched my jaw until it ached, refusing to let a single tear fall.

By the time I stepped through the door, my eyes were already swollen red beyond hiding.

The den attendants saw the red mark across my face and startled, crowding around me asking what happened, whether someone had hurt me. One of them reached for the communicator, saying she would call Kael Blackthorne immediately, that he needed to come home and answer for this.

"Don't."

I stopped her, my voice barely above a whisper.

Every wound I carried, he had given me with his own hands.

I sat by the window and pressed a cold compress to my face for a full hour before the swelling began to ease. The skin still throbbed, dull and hot, and I could feel my wolf stirring faintly at the pain, too tired to do more than press against the inside of my thoughts like something trying to breathe through shallow water.

Then my communicator chimed.

A message from Vesper Duskmere.

"Luna, did you make it home? I'm already at the Healers' Lodge. Kael is so worried about me. I only fainted for a moment, and he reserved an entire VIP ward, brought in over a dozen moon-healers to examine me."

"Oh, by the way, how's your face? My fault for not holding back earlier. It must hurt terribly. Would you like to come to the Lodge? I could be generous and spare you one healer, just to check if there'll be permanent scarring."

I read it once, then forwarded the message directly to Kael Blackthorne.

He didn't reply until well past midnight.

"Vesper meant well."

I stared at those four words. And then I laughed.

I laughed, and kept laughing, until the tears slipped down my face without permission.

The next second, I sent him a voice message.

"You're so eager to protect her? Then why don't you just take her as your mate right now? I'll step aside. I'll even wish you both a blessed union under the Moon Goddess."

This time, he replied fast.

"Clara, why do you always say things you don't mean? I've told you so many times. My Luna will only ever be you. The others are just distractions, nothing serious. Don't take it so hard. Get some rest. I'll come home tomorrow and stay with you."

Reading those words, all I felt was a hollow, boneless exhaustion.

Like throwing a punch into empty air. No impact. No echo. Nothing at all.

I let out a bitter laugh, too drained to waste another word on something so meaningless, and switched off the communicator.

The next day.

After lunch, I drove to the Blackthorne ancestral den.

I brought with me the imperial jade set that Selene Sterling had given me on my mating day. The necklace, the earrings, the bracelet, all of it heavy with old moonlight, the kind that sank into your bones when you held the pieces too long.

The set was said to be a bloodline relic of their house. Passed down through generations of Blackthorne Lunas.

But my timing was poor.

Theron Sterling and Selene Sterling had left at dawn, flying out to a coastal retreat for the season.

I asked once, and the house steward told me they wouldn't return for a full moon cycle.

I said nothing more. I handed the relic set to the steward, turned, and left.

After leaving the ancestral den, I went to a spa house in the upper district.

On the way out, I stopped and bought over a dozen pairs of earrings that had caught my eye.

By the time I returned home, the lights in the main hall were already on.

Kael Blackthorne sat on the sofa, the low table in front of him covered in gift boxes.

He heard me come in, set down his communicator, and looked up.

"The steward says you returned the bloodline relics?"

"Yes."

A single word.

He exhaled slowly, then stood and came to sit beside me.

"Still angry? Come on, stop this. I got you all these gifts. Just forgive me this once, alright?"

I looked at him, and something in me twisted with a feeling close to disgust.

In his mind, returning the bloodline relics was nothing more than a tantrum.

Not a woman severing the last thread that tied her to his house.

He was so certain. So utterly certain that I could never leave him.

That certainty was why he dared to be so reckless. Why he dared to suggest they each keep their own lovers, as though that were a reasonable arrangement. Why he dared, again and again, to parade other she-wolves in front of me and watch me bleed.

I didn't answer.

I only glanced at the familiar crests stamped on those gift boxes, and something cold and sharp surfaced behind my eyes.

"What I want can only be one of a kind."