Isla POV:

"The arrangements are made, Alpha."

I stood in Damien's office the next morning. I was wearing my white lab coat, holding a clipboard. I was the picture of efficiency.

"Good," Damien said, not looking up from his paperwork. "Seraphina is very excited. She's never seen the Moon Pool."

"It is a sacred place," I said neutrally. "Tell her not to wear shoes in the water."

"I'm taking her to the lodge in the Rockies afterward," Damien said. "The mountain air will be good for the pregnancy. We'll be gone for a week."

A week. That meant he would be gone until three days before the... before my departure.

"Enjoy your trip," I said.

"Isla," he said, finally looking up. His eyes were softer now. "Thank you. For being reasonable. I know this is hard for you. But once the baby is born... things will go back to normal. We will be us again."

"Of course, Alpha."

I walked out. As soon as the heavy oak door clicked shut, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

He left an hour later. I watched from the balcony as the helicopter took off, carrying Damien and Seraphina toward the mountains.

Silence descended on the apartment.

I walked out onto the balcony. It was a large terrace, high above the city smog. For five years, I had turned it into a garden.

It wasn't a flower garden. It was a pharmacy.

Rows of Silver-Leaf Mint for fevers. Pots of Golden Root for energy. And in the corner, the most precious of all-the Moon Herbs. They only bloomed under moonlight. I had cultivated them to make salves for the pack's warriors, to help them heal faster after battles.

Damien had once called them "weeds."

*Why do you play in the dirt?* he had asked. *We can buy medicine.*

He didn't understand. He never understood that the earth gave power that money couldn't buy.

I knelt in the soil. The dirt was cold against my knees.

I reached for a stalk of Wolf-Bane Neutralizer. I had spent six months cross-breeding it to make it potent enough to save a wolf from poison.

I gripped the stem.

And I pulled.

The roots ripped out of the soil with a soft tearing sound.

I didn't stop there. I moved to the next pot. And the next.

I wasn't harvesting them. I was evicting them.

I pulled up the Mint. I tore out the Golden Root. I dumped the soil over the railing, watching it scatter in the wind like dark rain.

Every plant I uprooted felt like I was pulling a memory of Damien out of my heart.

*Rip.* That was the time he forgot my birthday because he was "training."

*Rip.* That was the time he told me I was too soft to understand politics.

*Rip.* That was the moment he marked her.

My hands were covered in dirt. Sweat dripped down my back.

I reached the corner. The Stardust Flower. It was glowing faintly, a beautiful, iridescent blue. It was the rarest plant I owned. It was said to be able to mend a fractured soul.

I didn't destroy this one. I carefully dug it out, preserving the root ball. I placed it in a specialized travel container.

This one was coming with me. I would need it to heal myself.

I stood up. The balcony was bare. Just empty ceramic pots and scattered dirt. It looked desolate. It looked like a graveyard.

It was perfect.

I went back inside and washed my hands. The water turned brown and swirled down the drain.

I walked to the calendar.

I looked at the date of the "Moon Pool Ritual." The day Seraphina would desecrate the holy waters.

I took the red marker and drew a massive X over the date.

It wasn't just canceling a date. It was canceling a future.

I checked the countdown.

Five days until they returned.

Eight days until I left.

I sat on the sofa in the empty, silent apartment. I felt a strange sensation.

It wasn't sadness. It wasn't anger.

It was lightness.

Without the weight of hope, I was finally free.

Isla POV:

The week Damien was away was the quietest week of my life.

But while the apartment was silent, the internet was screaming.

Seraphina posted everything.

*Photo:* Damien peeling an apple for her with a silver knife. Caption: *He feeds me.*

*Photo:* Damien carrying her over a puddle of snow. Caption: *My feet never touch the ground.*

*Photo:* Damien looking at ultrasound scans, a goofy grin on his face. Caption: *Daddy's little warrior.*

I scrolled past them. They didn't hurt anymore. They were just confirmation.

I spent the days systematically erasing myself from the apartment.

Clothes went into donation bins. Books went into boxes to be shipped to storage. My scent, usually woven into the fabric of the sofa and the curtains, was fading.

On Thursday, I drove to my parents' house in the suburbs.

They were Omegas. Gentle, kind people who ran a bakery. They were so proud that their daughter was the Alpha's Mate. They had photos of Damien all over their living room.

"Isla!" My mother hugged me, smelling of yeast and vanilla. "You look thin, darling. Is the wedding planning stressful?"

"A little," I lied. "I came to tell you... I'm going on a trip. Before the wedding. A specialized training course for Healers in Europe."

"Oh?" My father looked up from his newspaper. "Is Damien going?"

"No. It's just for me. It's a great honor. The Guild invited me."

My mother frowned, her motherly instinct picking up on something. "Is everything okay with Damien? We saw the photos... of that girl. The guest."

"She's a patient, Mom," I said, the lie tasting like ash. "Damien is just doing his duty."

I couldn't tell them the truth. If they knew the Alpha had rejected me, they would be terrified. They would worry about their bakery, their safety in the pack.

"I might be gone for a while," I said, hugging them both tighter than usual. "Maybe a year. The course is intensive."

"We will miss you," my mother said, stroking my hair. "But we are proud. Our Isla, the High Healer."

I left before I could break down.

On Saturday, Chloe came over to help with the final sweep.

The apartment was barren. It echoed when we spoke.

"It looks like a hotel room," Chloe said, looking around. "Soulless."

"It is," I said. I was packing the last of my personal documents.

Chloe sat on a box. She looked angry. "I still don't understand, Isla. How can he be so blind? The life debt... everyone knows you were the one in the tent that night."

I froze. "What?"

"The Blood Moon battle," Chloe said. "Five years ago. I was a trainee, guarding the perimeter. I saw you run into the Alpha's tent when he was brought in, guts hanging out. I saw the silver light."

I touched the scar on my chest, hidden beneath my shirt.

Five years ago, Damien had been struck by a Rogue's cursed blade. He was dying. The pack doctors had given up.

I had gone in. I wasn't his mate then, just a young Healer. I knew the only way to save him was to give him my *Wolf Essence*. It was forbidden. It was dangerous.

I had poured my life force into him. It felt like burning alive. I stitched his wounds with my energy.

I had passed out from exhaustion. I was in a coma for three days.

When I woke up, Damien was healed. And Seraphina, a low-ranking wolf who had been bringing water to the tent, was sitting by his side, holding a wet cloth.

Damien had opened his eyes, seen her, and assumed *she* had saved him. Seraphina hadn't corrected him. She had claimed she used an ancient chant.

I had tried to tell him. But I was weak, my wolf nearly dead from the transfer. He looked at me-pale, shaking, powerless-and saw a weakling. He looked at Seraphina and saw a savior.

"I never told anyone," I whispered. "I thought... I thought he would figure it out. When we bonded."

"He's an idiot," Chloe spat. "And she's a thief."

"It doesn't matter now," I said, taping the box shut. "He chose his savior. He chose the lie."

"Does he know?" Chloe asked. "Does he know you almost died for him?"

"No," I said. "And he never will. Because I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he threw away the person who actually saved his life."

*I grabbed a locked, fireproof pouch from the safe.*

"Chloe," I said. *"This contains the raw medical data from that night. The energy readings. The essence depletion charts. Keep it safe. Don't show it to anyone unless it's a matter of life and death."*

"What is it?"

"The truth," I said.

The elevator chimed.

I stiffened. They weren't supposed to be back until tomorrow.

The doors slid open.

Damien walked in, tanned and laughing. Seraphina was on his arm, holding a giant stuffed bear he had won for her.

They stopped when they saw the boxes. They saw the bare walls.

Damien's smile faded. He looked at the empty shelves where my herbs used to be.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice dropping.

I picked up my purse.

"Just clearing out the clutter, Alpha," I said. "Making room for the new arrival."

I walked past him. He reached out to grab my arm, but I sidestepped him.

"Welcome home," I said.

I walked out the door, leaving him standing in the emptiness he had created.

Two days left.

Isla POV:

Five days.

That was all that remained before the date everyone else called a wedding, and I called an execution of my past.

I dressed in black. It was a sharp, tailored suit that hugged my frame, contrasting starkly with the white lab coat everyone was used to seeing me in. Today, I wasn't a Healer. I was a woman severing a limb to save her life.

The Council Chamber was a cavernous room filled with the scent of old parchment and older wolves. The twelve Elders sat around a circular mahogany table. They were the keepers of tradition, men who believed a female's place was silent and by her Alpha's side.

I walked to the center of the room. I didn't bow.

"I am formally withdrawing my application for the Luna bonding ceremony," I said, sliding a thick envelope across the polished wood.

The room erupted in murmurs. Elder Marcus, a man with grey fur sprouting from his ears, slammed his hand down.

"You cannot withdraw, child. The invitations are sent. The alliances are set. Alpha Damien needs a Luna to stabilize the pack energy."

"Then let him bond with the mother of his child," I said, my voice steady. "My wolf refuses him."

"Your wolf is weak," Marcus sneered. "Everyone knows your spirit is damaged. You are lucky Damien still honors the arrangement. Do not be ungrateful."

Ungrateful. The word tasted like bile. I had given my life essence to save their Alpha, and they called me ungrateful.

"It is not a request," I said, turning on my heel. "It is a notification."

I walked out before they could respond. My heart hammered against my ribs, not from fear, but from the adrenaline of defiance.

I returned to the apartment building. The elevator doors pinged open in the lobby, and my stomach dropped.

Damien and Seraphina were inside.

They had returned early from the mountains. Seraphina was glowing, her skin flushed with health-or perhaps just the satisfaction of feeding off my mate's energy. Damien looked relaxed, his arm draped protectively around her shoulders.

"Isla," Damien said, surprised. He looked at my black suit. "You look... severe."

"I had a meeting," I said, stepping into the metal box. The air instantly became suffocating.

The scent was overwhelming. It was a thick, cloying mix of Damien's ozone and Seraphina's lilies. It coated my tongue. My inner wolf, usually docile, growled low in my throat.

"We missed you at the lodge," Seraphina chirped, leaning her head on Damien's bicep. "Damien caught a deer in his wolf form. It was so primal."

I stared at the floor numbers changing. 10... 11... 12...

"You should come for dinner tonight," Seraphina added. "To celebrate our return. The chef is making Heartleaf Soup."

I stiffened. Heartleaf was a sacred herb. In our culture, it was used to strengthen the bond between a mated pair. It was an aphrodisiac, but also a spiritual binder.

"I have work," I said.

"Nonsense," Damien said, his voice carrying that edge of command. "You look pale. You need nourishment. Come. That is an order."

An order. He was using his Alpha authority to force me to play happy family.

An hour later, I sat at the long dining table. The apartment felt alien now that my things were gone, though Damien hadn't seemed to notice the missing books or the empty shelves yet.

The maid placed a steaming bowl of green soup in front of me. The smell was pungent.

"Eat," Damien said, spooning some into his own mouth. "It's good for the blood."

I picked up my spoon. My hand trembled slightly. I forced a swallow.

The reaction was instant.

As soon as the liquid hit my stomach, my body revolted. Heartleaf only nourished those who were in a true, accepted bond. To a wolf whose bond was rejected or broken, it was poison.

I gagged. I clamped a hand over my mouth, pushing my chair back. The screech of wood against the floor was deafening.

"Isla?" Damien asked, frowning.

I ran to the guest bathroom. I fell to my knees and retched, my body purging the soup violently. It felt like I was vomiting up hot coals.

Damien appeared in the doorway. "Isla! What is wrong?"

I flushed the toilet and leaned back against the cold tiles, wiping my mouth. "I told you. I'm not hungry."

He knelt beside me. He reached out to touch my forehead, but I flinched away.

"You are rejecting the nutrient," he muttered, confused. "That only happens if..." He trailed off. He couldn't finish the thought. It was impossible for him to conceive that our bond was already dead.

"I'm just stressed," I rasped. "The wedding."

"Yes," he said, visibly relieved by the excuse. "Nerves. Seraphina was nervous too, before..." He stopped, realizing he was comparing his mistress to his mate.

My pocket vibrated.

I stood up, shaky. "I need to rest."

I walked to the balcony-my barren, empty balcony. I answered the phone, keeping my voice to a whisper.

"Is the flight confirmed?"

"Yes, Healer Isla," the Guild secretary's voice came through. "Tomorrow, 3:00 PM. Private hangar."

"Good," I whispered. "The ceremony is canceled. I am leaving."

"Who are you talking to?"

I spun around. Damien was standing right behind me. His Alpha hearing was sharp; I had been careless.

My heart stopped. If he knew I was leaving, he would lock me in the dungeon. An Alpha never let his property escape.

"A patient," I lied, my heart rate spiking. "She's... in labor. Complications."

Damien studied my face. His eyes narrowed, scanning me for deceit. He sniffed the air, smelling the spike of fear in my scent.

"You are lying," he said softly. "Your heart is racing."

"Because you scared me," I snapped, channeling my fear into anger. "Creeping up on me like a predator."

He stared at me for a long moment. Then, he stepped back.

"Go to bed, Isla. You are hysterical. We will discuss your attitude in the morning."

He turned and walked back inside to Seraphina.

I let out a breath, my knees shaking.

Four days. Just four days.