I was nine months pregnant when the Wolf Council sent a resource report to the Luna’s quarters.

It listed my mate’s monthly distributions.

For two years straight, my husband—the pack’s Alpha—had been secretly providing the same female wolf with territory access, protection, and supplies.

Without missing a single month.

The first record dated back to two years ago.

The same month I lost my first pup.

A notification appeared—A contact request.

The note read: “A woman kept by an Alpha.”

I was strangely calm, one hand rested on my swollen belly as I accepted.

She messaged immediately. “You saw the report, didn’t you?”

I didn’t reply, I opened her feed instead.

The earliest post was dated April 21st, two years ago.

A female wolf leaned against an Alpha’s chest. His face was cropped out—but the mark on his shoulder was clear.

I recognized it instantly.

My mate’s Alpha mark.

The caption read: “Thank you for choosing me on my coming-of-age night.”

April 21st.

That was the night I lay bleeding in the healing room, losing my unborn pup.

He had told me he was away on pack business.

I kept scrolling.

She trained freely in Alpha-only areas.

Used resources reserved for the Luna.

Was guarded as if she already belonged at his side.

Every post carried the same message: He chose her.

Pinned at the top was a medical report—She was pregnant—With the Alpha’s pup.

I put the device down and returned to our bedroom.

Then I received it—Photos. Videos.

She sent them to me on purpose— to flaunt that the love I had once been so proud of had already rotted beyond repair.

I sat down slowly, my pup shifting inside me, pain spreading through my chest.

Only then did I understand—He had betrayed me completely.

This kind of love—I don’t want it. This pack—I won’t stay in it.

When my pup is born, I will leave—And I will take his heir with me.

Let the Alpha search every territory, scour every border, tear the pack apart in regret— he will never find us.

The woman in the photos was young and beautiful, her high ponytail full of careless vitality.

There were pictures of my mate rowing her across the inner lake of wolf territory, guiding her through moonlit waters meant only for bonded pairs.

Pictures of him shifting beside her during the first snowfall, their wolves running freely across the white ground.

Pictures of him lifting a red maple leaf and tucking it into her hair beneath the autumn moon—a quiet mating-season gesture among wolves, intimate and unmistakable.

Spring. Summer. Autumn. Winter.

An entire year of love, carefully documented.

I took a slow breath, my fingers trembling as I opened a video.

My mate called her name softly.

“Lena.”

They stood on the sea cliffs at dusk.

She held his hand and asked gently, “Do you love me?”

The man I had been married to for seven years—The Alpha whose pup I carried.

He smiled and answered lazily, “You tell me. That question is too easy.”

I replayed the video again and again.

In the silence of the room, tears fell one drop at a time.

I sat alone until dusk swallowed the light.

When Gavin returned, his voice was gentle, almost tender.

“Why didn’t you turn on the lights?”

“It’s so dark—what if you fell?”

Light flooded the room.

I covered my swollen, tear-stained eyes.

He crouched in front of me, taking my hand.

“Why are you crying?”

“Who upset my precious Luna—and our little one?”

He bent down and kissed my belly.

As he leaned closer, I smelled it again—Sweet. Clinging—Another woman’s scent.

Endearments were everywhere—followed by orders for nutrients, skincare, and gifts, all delivered to her address.

I recorded everything, sent the evidence to myself, and erased every trace from his phone.

Then I lay back on the bed, shivering with cold, staring at the ceiling—seven years of marriage, reduced to a joke.

Every time he came home, he brought me freshly picked flowers.

I ignored the scent.

But now I knew. It wasn’t the garden—It was her.

I never scented him—I couldn’t. 因为I was a Luna without a wolf.

And without a wolf, the mate bond never warned me when he betrayed me.

“Where were you?” I asked calmly.

“Pack business,” he said easily. “Working late.”

You lied.

You weren’t handling pack affairs.

You were with her—Helping her.

She had sent me videos of everything—smiling, recording, deliberately slow.

She even mocked me:

Look at this. We’re both pregnant. And he still chose to stay with me.

What do you think that means?

It meant my pup and I mattered less.

I smiled anyway and reached for his hand.

“My love,” I said softly, “the baby and I suddenly want food from the eastern market. Would you go for us?”

My pup kicked hard, as if sensing my pain.

Gavin paused.

The impatience in his eyes was brief—quickly replaced by concern.

“That place isn’t suitable for pregnancy,” he said gently. “The food there is too rich, no proper nutrition.”

He turned toward the kitchen instead.

“I’ll make something better for you.”

He moved with familiar ease, pulling out protein packs, mineral supplements, and the sealed prenatal nutrient base used by pregnant wolves.

He adjusted the temperature, calibrated the mix by hand, careful and practiced.

“You go take a shower first,” he said over his shoulder. “Warm water. It’ll help you relax.”

“I’ll have everything ready by the time you’re done.”

Thoughtful. Patient.

Just like he’d always been.

The sound of water soon filled the room.

I swallowed the grief rising in my chest and rested a hand over my belly.

“Baby,” I whispered, voice shaking, “we’re about to fight a hard battle.”

His phone lit up on the dining table.

Once—Then again.

He never hid it—Perhaps he truly believed I would never look.

That I was too trusting—Too foolish—I reached for it.

The password opened under my trembling fingers—the date of Lena’s pregnancy scan.

Inside were their messages.

Endless threads of intimacy.

Matching profile photos.

Names softened by affection.

I stood there in the quiet, the warmth of the room suddenly unbearable, as the truth settled in completely— He loved me.

And he still chose to betray me.

Endearments filled every corner of his messages,followed seamlessly by orders—nutrients, skin care, gifts—all delivered to her address, without hesitation, without guilt.

I recorded everything, sent it to myself, and deleted every trace,my hands steady even as my body shook.

When I finally lay back on the bed, shivering with cold,only one thought remained clear.

Seven years of marriage—nothing more than a joke.

When his phone rang again, I watched him step onto the balcony, closing the door carefully.

“There’s an emergency,” he said softly. “I need to go out for a bit.”

I looked at him.

“I don’t feel well.” I whispered. “Can you stay?”

For one moment, I thought— If he stayed, maybe I could forgive.

But broken bonds never heal.

He sighed gently. “I’ll have a healer come sit with you. I’ll be back soon.”

Soothing. Caring. But Cruel.

And that was the moment I knew— I would leave. With my pup.

And the Alpha would never feel my absence…

A sudden chill ran through me, goosebumps rising across my skin.

My heart felt frozen solid.

Yet I still reminded him softly to be careful on the road.

I lay there quietly, watching him finish dressing and leave the house.

Only after the door closed did I rise, supporting my heavy belly as I slowly went downstairs and flagged a cab.

“Silvercrest District,” I said.

The driver sped up.

When we arrived, I saw my mate’s car at once.

I asked the driver to stop behind a line of trees.

Through the window, I watched Lena run toward him like a bright-winged butterfly.

He caught her easily.

One hand rested instinctively on her flat abdomen.

His expression carried gentle reproach—but all of it was directed at the pup she carried.

He even lifted a hand and lightly tapped her nose.

I pressed one hand to my tightened belly and lifted my phone, recording.

On the screen, he moved with the instinctive precision of an Alpha—lifting her into the passenger seat, adjusting her posture, fastening the safety belt himself.

Careful. Familiar. Protective.

The kind of care that used to be mine.

A faint trace of his wolf’s presence lingered in the air, calm and dominant, wrapping around her like a shield.

My eyes burned.

“Follow that car,” I said quietly.

As we climbed onto the elevated road, the city lights blurred into long streaks of color.

Somewhere beneath the noise, the pack territory began to change—steel giving way to stone, scent markers replacing street signs.

I dragged my fingernails across the window again and again until the skin split.

The sharp pain grounded me—I pressed the bleeding finger to my lips, biting down.

Under the shifting lights, I repeated to myself:

Endure it, Sybil.

Endure it, and the pain will dull.

The car stopped outside the central pack hospital.

As I paid, the driver—who had been silent the entire ride—finally turned to look at me.

“Miss,” he said slowly, choosing his words with care, “I’ve been driving pack roads for thirty years.”

“I know what it looks like when a she-wolf follows her mate here.”

He paused.

“For a cheating male,” he added bluntly, “hurting yourself like this isn’t worth it.”

“And whatever happens between wolves,” he glanced at my belly, “the pup comes first.”

I hadn’t told anyone about my mate’s betrayal.

Yet the truth was obvious to a stranger.

Like poison, it had already eaten through me—again and again.

His words felt like a breath of air after drowning.

I closed the door softly and smiled.

“I’m fine,” I said. “No one can hurt me anymore—”

“Because I’m about to put the trash back where it belongs.”

I hid behind a stone pillar.

I watched the Alpha who had accompanied me to every single prenatal check—never missing one, never once impatient—move swiftly through the hospital halls now.

I watched him move through the hospital halls—registering, collecting medicine, shielding Lena with his body as other wolves passed.

The same attentiveness. The same careful, practiced steps.

Only no longer for me.

In that moment, the image of the perfect mate finally shattered, and I understood something far worse than abandonment.

He hadn’t stopped loving me.

He had taken the love he once gave me—and placed it carefully into another woman’s hands.

In the crowded hall, he drew Lena closer, his palm hovering protectively over her stomach, his Alpha presence unconsciously spreading around her.

His voice was low, controlled, focused entirely on the pup.

“The healer said you need to eat lightly tonight. Walk more.”

“Your digestion will be sensitive at this stage. You’ll follow instructions.”

Every word—Had once been meant for me.

“Early pregnancy already strains digestion. You’ll follow instructions. Understood?”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she laughed, twisting playfully.

“It’s your fault anyway. You brought so much roasted meat from the eastern grounds.”

His tone softened, but his eyes remained sharp.

“My mistake,” he said calmly.

“I overestimated your appetite.”

He rested a hand on her abdomen again.

“Next time, I’ll adjust for the pup.”

She smiled, satisfied.

They looked like a bonded pair.

Arguing. Close. Seamless.

And I—I was nothing more than a silent observer beneath the hospital’s pale lights.

I supported my belly and slowly made my way outside.

It had begun to rain.

Cold autumn wind chased the rain, as if determined to drain all warmth from the world.

Through the mist, I saw him remove his coat and shield Lena with it, guiding her carefully into the passenger seat.

Just before the car drove off, she lowered the window.

Her gaze locked onto mine—You lost, her eyes said.

I smiled and shook my head.

It’s all right, Sybil—He’s only a man.

As the car turned the corner, I even lifted my hand and waved.

I don’t want him anymore—You can have him.

Standing beneath the stone portico of the pack hospital, moonlight pooling faintly at my feet, I calmly forwarded every piece of evidence to my senior—

A renowned divorce attorney, one who specialized in bond dissolutions sanctioned by the Wolf Council.

And for the first time since the betrayal began, I felt steady.

When my mate and I had completed our bond, he had signed a written covenant.

Not a romantic vow— A legal one.

It had been filed, sealed, and witnessed by the Wolf Council itself.

The clause was clear:

If an Alpha broke the bond through emotional or physical betrayal, the Luna retained full claim to his assets, territories, and pack income.

At the time, I had laughed—I had never cared for power or property.

I believed love was worth more than land, more than moonstone, more than titles carved into stone.

And even now— If it were only about me, I would walk away with nothing.

Because no amount of wealth could ever replace what I lost.

But I am no longer alone—I placed my hand over my belly, feeling my pup shift—alive, trusting, unaware of the world waiting beyond my ribs.

This pup will be born into a pack that failed to protect its Luna.

So I will protect him myself—What I am about to do is not revenge.

I am not seeking to drag my mate before the pack and nail him to a pillar of shame.

I am not interested in watching him fall—This is not about hatred.

It is about provision.

About securing territory, resources, and safety— So my pup will never have to beg.

Never have to bow—Never have to wonder if they matter.

I will follow the law of wolves.

I will submit the bond dissolution to the pack court and the Wolf Council.

Not as a scorned mate—But as a mother.

And for that reason alone— I will take everything my pup is owed.

By the time I finished everything, rain had soaked through the hem of my dress.

As I lowered my phone, it rang——Mom.

“Sybil,” she said, her voice gentle, familiar.

“I prepared some warming herbs and newborn supplies and brought them over. The house was empty—where are you and Gavin?”

There was a pause, then a quiet sigh.

“You’re so close to your due date. You shouldn’t be out this late, especially in the rain.”

“This is the nesting period. Your body needs calm, not movement.”

Her concern was soft, practical— the kind that came from pack instinct, not panic.

That was what broke me.

The sound of her voice pushed straight through the walls I had been holding up.

The ache inside me swelled, sudden and uncontrollable, like something alive trying to claw its way out of my chest.

I pressed my lips together, forcing the emotion back down.

Holding it in hurt so badly my hands began to shake.

“I’m fine, Mom,” I said, light—too light.

“We just stepped out for dinner.”

“I’m being careful. Gavin’s with me.”

The lie tasted bitter the moment it left my mouth.

I knew if I said anything more, my voice would give me away.

“It’s raining,” I added quickly.

“Please drive slowly. Message me when you get home.”

I ended the call before she could say anything else.

For a long moment, I stood there, breathing shallowly, rain sliding down my hair and shoulders.

I wasn’t just heartbroken.

I was caught between two truths— the mate who had betrayed me, and the mother who still believed I was being protected.

That contrast hurt more than either one alone.

I ended the call in a hurry and drew in a deep breath.

I tried to hold myself together— But in the end, I still cried, right there in the rain.

I stood alone in the crowded hospital plaza, clutching my heavy, aching belly as it pulled downward— And cried until it felt like I had emptied every tear I would ever have.

Gavin didn’t come home that night.

Only a message arrived.

“Sybil, I’ll be working late tonight. I’ll stay at the office.”

“It’s getting colder—don’t sleep with the windows open.”

“Forever yours. Your husband.”

I stared at the screen for a long time.

My chest tightened slowly, as if something invisible were pressing down on my heart, inch by inch.

He was still lying to me—So easily. So carefully.

I wondered how long this had been going on— how many nights, how many excuses, how many messages just like this.

I pressed my palm against my belly, breathing shallowly, afraid that if I breathed too hard, something inside me would break.

Once, I would have read these words and smiled.

Once, I would have believed every single one.

I used to think I was the luckiest woman alive—Not because I was special— but because I had been chosen.

I was born without a wolf.

No heightened senses. No instinctive bond. No moment when the Moon Goddess whispered a destined name into my soul.

In our world, that mattered.

I had always believed I was less.

It was Gavin who refused that truth—He pursued me relentlessly, shamelessly.

He told me that the first time he saw me, something inside him had recognized me.

“I don’t need the Moon to tell me,” he said.

“If fate exists, then you are mine.”

He said I was his destined mate—even if the world disagreed.

And I believed him—I believed that love could be chosen.

That devotion could overcome bloodlines and instincts.

Now, those words replayed in my mind like a cruel joke.

I didn’t reply to his message.

Not because I felt nothing—but because there was too much.

Too much grief.

Too much disbelief.

Too much love that had nowhere left to go.

What hurt the most wasn’t that he had another woman—It was that he was still pretending to be mine.

Not long after, my senior sent me the drafted bond dissolution agreement—I printed it out and signed my name.

As I packed my things to move back to my mother’s place, an unfamiliar number called.

Lena.

We met at a small lounge just outside the pack district—a place wolves favored, where moon-lamps burned low and the air always carried the faint scent of herbs and wine.

She was already there when I arrived.

Lena sat with her back straight, shoulders relaxed, as if the world bent easily around her.

A supply satchel from the pack market rested by her chair—fresh meat supplements, nutrient vials, things meant for pregnant she-wolves. She made no effort to hide it.

Barely three months along, and she glowed.

Her boots were soft leather, fitted for travel through territory rather than comfort, and her posture radiated confidence—young, fertile, triumphant.

One hand rested lazily near her flat stomach, fingers brushing it now and then, as if reminding the room of what she carried.

When she looked up at me, her lips curved—not into a smile, but something sharper.

Satisfaction—The kind that comes from knowing she had taken something precious—and believing she had won.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she said.

“You never replied to my messages.”

I smiled faintly.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m not the one doing something shameful.”

“I’m Gavin’s lawful mate. Everything about me can stand in the sunlight.”

“Some people—no matter how well they pretend—are still meant to stay in the dark.”

Her face hardened.

“You—”

I didn’t wait for her to finish. “I came to say one thing.”

I looked at her calmly. “He’s yours now.”

That was all.

I placed cash beneath the coffee cup and slowly rose, one hand supporting my belly.

“What do you mean by that?” she snapped, grabbing my wrist.

“It means,” I said quietly, “I don’t want him anymore.”

“You want him—take him.”

Her eyes flared.

“Stop pretending you’re above this!” she hissed.

“Do you really think giving up makes you noble?”

“Don’t fool yourself. Just because you’re carrying his pup doesn’t mean you can hold onto the Luna position.”

“He doesn’t love you,” she spat. “If he did, would he be with me?”

I said nothing. I gently pulled my hand free and turned to leave.

That was when her composure finally shattered.

“Coward!” she screamed. “Running away like this—what a joke!”

She shoved me hard—The force sent me stumbling backward.

When I hit the ground, a tearing pain ripped through my abdomen— sharp, violent, unbearable.

My body seized.

Warmth spilled between my legs.

Too much.

Fear crashed into me all at once—I screamed.

“Please—”

“Someone help me.”

“Save my pup.”