I twisted my body at the last second, my shoulder slamming into the edge of the fireplace instead of my head. The pain shot through me like lightning as I crashed to the floor, the heat of the flames licking dangerously close to my hair.

Liam stood over me, his young face twisted with hatred. "You should have just died like the cat."

Those words hurt more than the physical pain coursing through my body. But then something shifted in his expression. His eyes widened, filling with horror as he stared at my injured form.

"I didn't mean to hurt you..." he whispered, his voice suddenly small. "I just wanted to scare you so you'd leave fast."

I stood up, ignoring the stabbing pain in my shoulder and the burn forming on my arm. Five years of patience, five years of taking his abuse, five years of trying to love a child who only returned hatred—it all boiled over in that moment. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.

The sound echoed through the room like a gunshot.

Liam stood frozen, his hand touching his reddening cheek. Shock painted his features. In all the years I'd been his stepmother, I had never once raised a hand to him, no matter how cruel his words or actions were.

He screamed, the sound raw and primal. Footsteps thundered down the stairs as James rushed into the room.

"What just happened?" he demanded, eyes darting between us.

I braced myself, expecting him to take Liam's side as he always did. But then his gaze fell on my bleeding shoulder, and an angry red burn formed on my forearm. Something unfamiliar flickered across his face.

"Did Liam do that to you?"

Before I could answer, Liam ran to his father, clinging to his leg. "I didn't mean to hurt her," he cried. "I was just trying to make her leave because she doesn't belong here."

James approached me slowly, his expression unreadable. "I'll take you to the hospital right away."

"You don't have to do that," I replied, my voice steady despite the pain. "I'll do it myself. Please just sign the divorce papers. I'm leaving." I reached for my bag, wincing as the movement pulled at my injured shoulder.

"What have we done to deserve you leaving this house?" James shouted suddenly, his momentary concern vanishing like smoke. "I told you I'll get you a new pet. We have given you everything!"

"Everything—except the things that actually mattered," I said quietly. "My feelings? Ignored. My opinions? Unheard. My existence? Only acknowledged when you needed something. I was invisible unless I was useful."

"I'm not angry, James," I continued with a tired sigh. "I just want a divorce."

His expression changed instantly, the mask of concern dropping away to reveal calculation in his eyes. "Ella, if you leave, you don't have anywhere better to be."

I stared at him, unmoved by his words. "I've made up my mind," I whispered.

James ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. "If you stay, Sophia will join you to take care of Liam. That will ease your troubles. You'll just have to remain as his mother."

I almost laughed. He wasn't saying this because he loved me or suddenly valued my presence. It was all about his position in the pack. A divorce would damage his reputation as their leader. The scandal would be too much for him to handle. The mighty Alpha, abandoned by a human woman—how would that look to his followers?

"So that's your solution?" I asked. "I stay and pretend everything is fine while your mistress moves in and takes over? And what will my role be exactly?"

"You'll still be Liam's mother in the eyes of the pack," he said as if offering me some great honourr. "You'll attend the gatherings, play your part."

"While you two sleep together under my roof?"

"It's not like that," he protested weakly.

"It's exactly like that," I replied. "You want me to be a puppet, Luna, so you don't lose face with the pack."

James's expression hardened. "You owe me this much. Where will you go? Back to that bitter old woman who raised you? She doesn't want you either. No one does."

The words were designed to cut deep, to remind me of all my insecurities. Five years ago, they would have worked. I would have crumbled, apologized, and stayed.

Not anymore.

"I'd rather be alone than be your prop," I said. "Sign the papers, James. It's over."

He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh. "You're not leaving."

"Let her go," Sophia's voice came from the doorway. She stood there, watching us with cold eyes. "If she wants to leave, let her. I can be everything she wasn't for you and Liam."

"Stay out of this," James snapped at her, but his grip on my arm loosened slightly.

I pulled away, putting distance between us. "You can't keep me here against my will."

"Watch me," he growled, his eyes flashing with that dangerous amber glow that reminded me he wasn't entirely human. "You belong to this pack. To me."

"I never belonged here," I replied calmly. "I was just too afraid to admit it."

I turned to leave, but James moved faster, blocking the door. "If you walk out that door, don't expect to ever come back."

"That's the plan," I said.

"You won't survive out there," he warned. "Not anymore.

I walked out of the house without hesitation. The cool night air hit my face, washing away five years of suffocation. Relief flooded through me, but with each step, my vision began to blur around the edges.

My shoulder throbbed. My head felt light. The world tilted sideways.

When I reached the gate, headlights cut through the darkness. My Uber had arrived.

"You're here just in time," I whispered, stumbling toward the car.

The driver's concerned face was the last thing I saw before everything went black.

***

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The rhythmic sound pulled me from darkness. I tried to move, but pain shot through my shoulder.

"Stay still," a gentle voice instructed.

The sharp smell of antiseptics filled my nose. Hospital. I was in a hospital.

My vision cleared slowly. A nurse stood beside my bed, adjusting something on a monitor. When she noticed me watching, she smiled.

"Take it easy, ma'am. You're safe now."

"How did I get here?" My voice sounded raspy, unfamiliar.

"A man rushed you in saying you passed out in his car. The Uber driver, I think." She checked my IV. "You've been unconscious for almost twenty-four hours. Severe dehydration, combined with that nasty burn and shoulder injury. What happened to you?"

I turned away from her questioning gaze. "I fell."

She didn't believe me. I could tell by the way her lips pressed together, but she didn't push.

"Your phone's been ringing non-stop," she said instead, nodding toward the small table beside my bed. "Someone's worried about you."

As soon as she left, I grabbed my phone. Fifteen missed calls from my grandmother. No messages from James. Not that I expected any.

The time stamp shocked me. I'd lost an entire day. Twenty-four hours of freedom I couldn't even remember.

I closed my eyes, memories washing over me. Liam's face after I slapped him. James blocking the door. The pain when my shoulder hit the fireplace.

Five years of my life wasted on people who saw me as nothing but a convenience.

My phone buzzed with a new message. From Sophia's number.

"The stench of weakness is finally gone from our home. Don't worry about your things – I've already burned them. Liam says the fire was beautiful, almost as beautiful as watching you bleed. James laughs about how easy it was to keep you trapped all these years. A pathetic human playing pretend wolf. Stay gone or next time, we won't be so merciful."

I stared at the screen until the words blurred. Then I deleted the message.

Two hours later, a different nurse removed my IV and handed me discharge papers.

"The doctor recommends rest for at least a week," she said. "And you'll need to change that bandage daily."

I nodded absently, already thinking about my next move.

"Do you have someone picking you up?" she asked.

"No," I replied. "But I know where I'm going."

She gave me a worried look but didn't argue.

Outside, the afternoon sun felt too bright. I squinted against it as I hailed a taxi.

"Airport, please," I told the driver.

During the ride, I booked the first flight to Montana I could find. Then I texted my grandmother: "I'm on my way to take my place."

Her response came immediately: "It's about time. I've been waiting for you to remember who you are."

I leaned back against the seat, a strange calm settling over me. For five years, I'd tried to be what James and his pack wanted – quiet, submissive, grateful for scraps of affection. I'd erased myself to fit into their world.

Never again.

At the airport, I checked in with nothing but my purse and the clothes on my back. Everything else was gone, burned in a fire that probably had Sophia laughing.

Let her laugh. Let them all laugh.

As I waited at the gate, I caught my reflection in a window. I barely recognized myself. Pale face. Dark circles under my eyes. A bandage peeking out from my collar.

But there was something different too. Something in my eyes that hadn't been there before. A hardness. A purpose.

"Final boarding call for Flight 287 to Helena, Montana," the announcement echoed.

I stood, wincing at the pain in my shoulder. It would heal. Everything would, except the memories. Those I would keep – fuel for what was coming.

My phone buzzed again as I joined the boarding line. Unknown number.

"Ella, it's James. Come home. We need to talk."

Five little words. Five years ago, they would have sent me running back to him. Now they meant nothing.

I typed back four words: "I am going home."

Then I blocked his number.

The plane was half-empty. I had a row to myself, which was good. I needed space to think, to plan. My grandmother had been telling me for years that I had a place waiting for me – a birthright I'd been too afraid to claim.

I'd chosen James instead, believing his lies about love and protection. Choosing to be his Luna when I could have been so much more.

The flight attendant offered me a drink. I declined, closing my eyes as the plane climbed into the clouds.

My grandmother wasn't just any old woman living in the mountains. She was Marissa Hayes, the Alpha of the Grey Mountain pack – the oldest and most powerful wolf pack in North America. And I was her granddaughter, her heir.

But now I was going home. To learn. To change. To become what I was always meant to be.

The plane engines hummed, a steady rhythm like a heartbeat. Like a countdown.

Before turning my phone to airplane mode, I sent one final message. Not to Sophia, who wasn't worth my time. Not to Liam, who was just a child parroting his father's cruelty.

To James.

"I, Ella Hayes, reject you, James Turner, as my mate. Our bond is severed. You have no claim on me. You never did."

It's payback time.