Bennett POV

The Council meeting was a disaster, a train wreck in slow motion.

"Where is Kelsey?" Elder Thomas demanded, the ferrule of his cane striking the hardwood floor with a sharp *crack*. "The archives are in shambles. The harvest festival is a week away, and not a single vendor has been confirmed. And now, whispers reach us that she has abdicated?"

"She is merely taking a mental health break," I lied, keeping my expression practiced and smooth, though sweat prickled at my collar. "The first attack traumatized her. She needs space to recover."

"Space does not mean divorce, Bennett!"

"It is not a divorce," I insisted, though the hollow echo in my chest argued otherwise. "It is a separation. Temporary. She will be back."

I had to fix this. I needed to buy her back. That was what Kelsey responded to, wasn't it? Stability? Comfort? Security?

I pulled out my phone, navigating to a jeweler in Paris. I had tracked her credit card usage; I knew exactly where she was hiding.

*Click. Order placed.* A diamond necklace. Heavy, expensive, undeniable.

I typed out the note to accompany it: *'Come home. Stop playing games. I forgive you.'*

That would work. Kelsey was soft. She was pliable. She always forgave me in the end.

Later that afternoon, I was buried in paperwork in my office when Aria burst in. She was practically glowing, radiating a frantic energy.

"Bennett!" she squealed, waving a crumpled piece of paper in the air.

"Not now, Aria. I am trying to salvage the budget for the—"

"I'm pregnant!"

The world seemed to screech to a halt.

I stood up slowly, the budget forgotten on the mahogany desk. "What did you say?"

"I went to the pack doctor," she beamed, rushing around the desk to straddle my lap, her hands framing my face. "I’ve been feeling sick for days. It’s twins, Bennett! Alpha heirs!"

Joy, pure and instinctual, flooded my veins. This was it. This was the legacy I had been fighting for. The one thing Kelsey had failed to give me.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Smell me!"

I buried my face in the crook of her neck. Beneath her usual cloying vanilla perfume, there was a change. A subtle richness. It was faint, barely a whisper, but it was there. The unmistakable scent of new life.

"This changes everything," I whispered against her skin.

"It does," she purred, her fingers tracing the line of my jaw. "It means I need to be Luna. Officially. The pups need a crowned mother, Bennett. They can’t be born to a mistress."

I hesitated. The rejection wasn't finalized in the pack records yet. The legalities were messy. But... twins.

"Okay," I said, the decision locking into place. "We will hold the ceremony. Next week."

*

Kelsey POV

The package arrived with the morning light.

I sat at my small kitchen table and opened the velvet box. Inside lay a diamond necklace. It was heavy, ostentatious, and cold to the touch.

The note tucked beneath it read: *I forgive you.*

I stared at the ink. He forgave *me*? For what? For surviving? For walking away when he had already discarded me like yesterday's trash?

I waited for the anger to come, but it didn't. Instead, I felt a profound, exhausting boredom. He didn't know me at all. He never had.

I snapped the box shut. I took the necklace and walked down to the pawn shop on the corner of the street.

"How much?" I asked, sliding the velvet box across the glass counter.

The man examined it with a loupe and named a price. It was substantial. Enough to cover my rent for six months, with plenty left over.

"Deal."

I took the stack of cash and walked straight to a local werewolf shelter—a sanctuary for omegas who had been abused, neglected, or kicked out of their packs.

"Anonymous donation," I said, handing the thick envelope to the stunned volunteer at the desk.

When I returned to my apartment, the air felt lighter. I started cleaning. Not just tidying, but *purging*.

I pulled out the box I had shoved under the bed. It held the few artifacts I had brought from Silver Crest that I hadn't destroyed yet. Old photos. A dried flower from our first date. A ticket stub.

I lit a fire in the small, non-functional fireplace I’d managed to get working.

One by one, I fed the memories to the flames.

My phone pinged on the floor. A message from Sophie. She knew I had blocked the others, so she remained my only link to the life I left behind.

*Sophie: Kelsey... Aria is pregnant. Twins. Bennett announced the Luna Coronation is happening next week.*

I paused, a photograph of Bennett and me hovering over the fire.

Pregnant? Already?

My brow furrowed. Wolf biology didn't work that fast. Even if they had been sleeping together for months, the scent of a multiple pregnancy wouldn't be strong enough to confirm twins this early without a blood test. And the Pack doctor was old-fashioned; he relied almost exclusively on scent.

Unless...

A memory surfaced. The smell of Aria at the party, right before I left. That cloying sweetness.

Vanilla and... *rot*.

I realized what it was. There was a specific herb. *Wolfsbane root mixed with synthetic hormones.* It was an old, forbidden cocktail used by desperate wolves. It could mimic the scent of pregnancy, masking the barren reality with a false richness. But underneath, it always smelled like decay.

She was faking it. Or she was using dark magic.

I looked at the photo in my hand. Bennett was smiling, young and arrogant, completely unaware of the viper in his bed.

"You idiot," I whispered to the glossy paper. "You're crowning a fraud."

I could warn him. I could send a message, expose the lie, and save the pack from crowning a false Luna.

I watched the flames dance, hungry and bright.

"No," I said aloud.

I dropped the photo into the fire.

I watched the edges curl and blacken. I watched Bennett's smiling face bubble, distort, and melt away into gray ash.

"Not my pack. Not my circus. Not my monkeys."

I stood up and dusted the soot off my hands.

The fire crackled, warm and cleansing, consuming the last tether to my past.

I turned away from the hearth and walked toward my easel. I picked up a brush, feeling the weight of it, familiar and grounding.

The White Wolf inside me stretched, shaking off the last of the gray dust.

It was time to paint something new. Something vibrant.

It was time to live.

Kelsey POV:

The news reached me through the Pack’s public broadcast channel, a frequency that hummed in the back of my mind like static—one I hadn’t figured out how to fully sever yet.

Bennett was demanding a "Test of Loyalty" for Aria.

To prove she was worthy of being the Luna—and to silence the growing whispers about the legitimacy of her pregnancy—she had to cross the Whispering Woods alone. It was a stretch of forest infamous for Rogue activity, a death sentence for the weak.

I sat in my small apartment in Paris, staring at the rain streaking the window, blurring the city lights into abstract smears of gold and grey.

It was theater. Pure, manipulative theater. Bennett was risking the mother of his "heirs" to prove a point to the Elders? Unlikely. He was a man of legacy, not chance. He had undoubtedly arranged for her safety beforehand; the Rogues were likely paid off or cleared out.

My phone buzzed on the table.

But it wasn't a text. The real disturbance was a phantom vibration at the base of my skull, an invasive itch I couldn't scratch.

*Kelsey.*

It was Aria. The Mind-Link was frayed, stretched thin over the thousands of miles between us, but she was pushing through with hysterical strength.

*Go away,* I projected back, visualizing a brick wall slamming down between our consciousnesses.

*I just wanted you to know,* her voice echoed in my head, saccharine and dripping with triumph. *Bennett is fighting the Elders right now. He's screaming at them. He says he would burn the territory down before he lets anyone question my honor.*

I took a sip of water, forcing my hand to remain steady against the porcelain mug.

*He never raised his voice for you, did he?* she taunted, her mental projection sharpening into a blade. *He never fought for you. You were just the furniture he inherited from his father.*

A sharp pain spiked behind my eyes. It wasn't heartbreak. It was the physical recoil of truth. She was right. Bennett’s love for me had been a quiet, suffocating thing. His love for her was loud, violent, and reckless.

*Do you think he loves you?* I asked her across the bond, my mental voice weary. *Or does he love the idea of an heir? He loves his legacy, Aria. You're just the vessel.*

A ripple of cold, mental laughter echoed in the silence of my mind.

*I don't care what he loves,* Aria replied, her tone shifting instantly from sweet to icy. *I don't love him, Kelsey. I love the power. I love the title. And this pregnancy? It's my ticket to the throne. Bennett is a tool. Just like you were.*

I gasped aloud in the empty room. The sheer, calculated cold-bloodedness of it made me nauseous.

*I'm going to tell him,* I threatened, though even I could hear the weakness in my resolve.

*He won't believe you,* she scoffed. *He thinks you're jealous. He thinks you're barren and bitter. Watch the live stream, Kelsey. Watch me become the Queen you never could be.*

Panic flared in my chest. Not for me, but for Bennett. He was a fool, blinded by his own ego, but he didn't deserve to be destroyed by a monster like her.

I reached for the deeper bond, the ancient tether connected to Bennett.

*Bennett!* I screamed mentally, pouring every ounce of urgency into the link. *Listen to me! She's using you! The pregnancy is a lie!*

There was a pause. A static silence that stretched for a heartbeat too long.

Then, his voice came through, cold and distant as the moon.

*Stop it, Kelsey. You're embarrassing yourself. Let us be happy. You are nothing to me now.*

The connection slammed shut like a heavy iron door. He blocked me.

I sat there in the silence of my apartment, the rain still drumming against the glass. My Inner Wolf didn't howl. She didn't cry. She just let out a long, heavy sigh of relief.

He was gone. Truly gone.

I walked to the window and threw it open, letting the cold, crisp Parisian air wash over my face, cleansing the scent of the pack from my lungs.

"Goodbye, Bennett," I whispered.

Kelsey POV:

Just as I predicted, the internet was flooded with images of the so-called "Test of Loyalty."

It had gone exactly as I expected. A Rogue—clearly a staged actor, likely paid off by Aria—had attacked. Bennett had intervened, taking a "grievous wound" to protect his pregnant mate.

The photo on the screen was a masterpiece of propaganda. It showed Bennett in his human form, blood streaming down his chest, standing over a weeping Aria.

The caption read: *Blood for Blood. Love Conquers All.*

I stared at the pixels, waiting for the familiar pang of panic. But I felt nothing. Absolute zero.

I zoomed in on Bennett's face. He looked pale, his skin waxy under the camera flash. The claws had gone deep. Wolfsbane, perhaps? If the rogue had been armed with treated claws, the healing would be slow and agonizing.

A year ago, I would be mixing poultices right now. I would be pacing the floor, my heart in my throat, already packing a bag to rush to his side.

Now, I simply closed the tab.

I picked up my paintbrush. The canvas in front of me was a swirl of grays and blues, a storm breaking apart to reveal a white moon.

My phone rang, shattering the quiet. It was Mark.

I hesitated, watching the name flash on the screen, then answered.

"What do you want, Mark?"

"The Alpha... he's asking for you," Mark said, his voice tight with stress. "He's feverish. The wound isn't healing right. He keeps mumbling about the Luna."

"Aria is right there," I said, my voice devoid of sympathy.

"He means you, Kelsey."

"I am not the Luna," I reminded him. "I resigned."

"He wants you to come to the Coronation," Mark said, abruptly shifting tactics. "He thinks... he thinks it would show unity. If you gave Aria your blessing, the Elders would calm down. He's willing to pay for your flight. He even bought you a gift."

I laughed. It was a harsh, jagged sound that startled me.

"A gift?"

"A necklace," Mark said, sounding hopeful. "Sapphires. He said they match your eyes."

The silence that followed was heavy.

"My eyes are hazel, Mark," I said softly. "Aria has blue eyes."

Dead silence on the other end.

"Tell him no," I said, cutting the cord. "Tell him I'm busy living my life. And Mark? Tell him that the next time he wants to stage a fight to impress a girl, he should make sure the rogue doesn't use real poison."

I hung up before he could stammer a reply.

I looked back at the painting. It needed something. It was too cold.

I dipped my brush in red paint. Not the color of blood. The color of life. Of roses. Of dawn.

With a steady hand, I slashed a vibrant red line across the gray storm.

My Inner Wolf stretched inside me, shaking off her slumber. She felt stronger today. The phantom weight of the Pack was gone. I didn't have to worry about the harvest. I didn't have to worry about heirs.

I just had to worry about me.