The next morning, I was awakened by a message from Lucas.

"Go to the greenhouse," he commanded, his tone brusque. "Bring the 'Moonlight Flower.' The Alpha is waiting for you."

I stared at the screen, my fingertips ice-cold.

The Moonlight Flower. It blooms once every ten years, for a single night.

Its nectar makes the marking process feel like a dream, completely painless.

This one, I had been nurturing since I was eighteen, even using my own blood to feed it.

I had fantasized countless times about the day I would finally become Slade's mate. I would pick it myself, and he would mark me gently.

Now, the flower was in bloom. But I would never have a use for it.

When I pushed open the glass door of the greenhouse, Slade was standing in the center of the flowerbeds. Rosalind sat in a nearby wicker chair, toying with a common rose.

"Did you bring it?" Slade turned. His gaze passed over me, landing on the potted plant I held in my arms.

"This is an asset of the medical center," I said, clutching the pot tighter. "It hasn't fully bloomed yet."

"Tsk, tsk. Lying isn't a good look on you, Eloise," Slade walked over, looking down at me with amused eyes. "Tonight is the full moon. I can smell its sweetness from here."

He stopped in front of me, looking down at the flower.

"Rosalind is... delicate. She is afraid of pain."

"I want you to offer this flower. We will use it during our marking."

I looked up at him in disbelief.

He knew. He knew exactly what this flower meant to me.

During those stolen nights in this very greenhouse, he had kissed my fingers and whispered, "When this blooms, you will be my mate."

And now he was giving it away so easily.

It was like he was asking me to carve out my own heart and serve it on a platter.

"Slade?" Rosalind walked over, glancing at the stunning flower. "Is this that magical herb? It looks a bit... plain."

Rosalind reached out, her finger flicking disdainfully at a silver petal.

"Darling, I know it's for the pain. But I think it's too monotonous on its own. Why don't we crush it together with the 'Blood Thistle' we're using?"

My pupils contracted violently.

"Blood Thistle is a highly toxic catalyst," I cut her off. "Mixing them would completely neutralize the Moonlight Flower's properties. It would be worthless."

"But it's the symbol of the Thorne Pack," Rosalind blinked innocently.

"Mixing the two flowers symbolizes the merging of our two pack bloodlines. That's what's most important, isn't it? As for the pain... you're the best healer. You can always find another way, right?"

Her intention was obvious. She wanted to destroy it.

Slade was silent for two seconds, then he looked at me. "Do as she says. Come on, Eloise, don't be stingy."

"Are you insane? I've nurtured this flower for ten years..."

"Honey," Slade interrupted, "Why are you throwing a tantrum over a plant? I am the Alpha. Everything here is mine to use, including you, and including your little flower. Now be a good girl and put it down."

In that moment, I heard the last string inside me snap.

I once believed I would be his. Now, I knew he was dreaming if he thought I still would be.

"Since you want to see the two packs merge so badly..." I forced a smile, but I didn't hand the flower to Rosalind.

Instead, I walked to the large copper brazier in the center of the room, the one used for burning dead branches, its coals glowing red hot.

"No!" Slade seemed to realize what I was about to do and lunged forward.

But he was too slow.

I grabbed the Moonlight Flower by its stem and ripped it out, roots and all.

Without a shred of hesitation, I threw the blooming flower directly into the roaring fire.

The delicate petals were instantly consumed by the flames.

"What are you doing?!" Rosalind shrieked.

Slade whipped his head around to glare at me, his face twisted into a look of disbelief, as if his favorite toy had just bitten him.

"You dare to defy me? Eloise, are you trying to punish me? That's cute, but foolish."

I dusted the remaining dirt from my hands and glanced at the empty pot.

My heart was completely empty, too.

"If you were going to treat it like trash, I'd rather do it myself. At least it died a clean death."

I turned and walked away, the sound of the pot smashing to pieces behind me followed by Slade's annoyed sigh.

Back in my room, the gilded invitation for the ceremony sat on the table.

A cordial invitation to the Marking Ceremony of Alpha Slade and Luna Rosalind.

I took out my lighter and lit a corner of the invitation.

I watched it curl and blacken, until their names had vanished completely into ash.

The countdown on my phone screen hit zero.

I dialed the encrypted number.

"Professor, it's me."

I looked out at the dark night, the last speck of ash falling from my fingertips.

"It's time. We move tonight."

I had just latched the clasps on my old suitcase when the clinic's decaying wooden door was blasted from its hinges.

Slade stood in the shadows. He leaned against the doorframe, looking effortlessly handsome and completely unthreatened. "I knew I'd find you."

He stepped inside, his expensive leather shoes groaning on the rotten floorboards.

I instinctively backed away, my hand reaching for the silver scalpel on the table.

But he was too fast. In the blink of an eye, he had crossed the room.

My back slammed against a medicine cabinet, sending glass vials clattering. His large hands pinned me there.

"Where did you think you could run?" he demanded, is voice low and seductive, nuzzling my ear.

I tried to struggle, but there was no room.

Suddenly, the feral look in his eyes receded for a moment, replaced by a flicker of panic.

"For three hours, I couldn't feel you," he pressed his forehead against mine, his voice hoarse. "I thought something had happened to you..."

The heart I thought could no longer be moved gave a painful twinge.

But I quickly snapped back to reality. This was an Alpha's possessiveness, not love.

"Let go of me, Slade."

"Not until you tell me where you're going with that suitcase."

"That has nothing to do with you."

"Nothing to do with me?" he scoffed, his hand clamping around my jaw, tilting my head up so he could smile down at me.

"Every breath you take belongs to the Blackwood Pack. You're mine, Eloise. You don't get to leave until I say so."

"I've repaid my debt to this pack. With my dignity, and with the flower I burned." I looked him straight in the eye. "I am free."

"What did you say? Free?" He released me and pulled a yellowed parchment from his coat.

Slap.

He slammed it down on the dusty clinic table.

"Look at this."

The moment my eyes fell on it, the long list of arguments I had prepared died on my lips.

The parchment was titled in large letters: Guardianship Pact. At the bottom was my mother's elegant signature, next to the embossed crest of the Blackwood Pack.

My mother had told me about her connection to the Blackwood pack.

Twenty years ago, during the pack wars, the then-Luna of Blackwood, Slade's mother, Slone, had fled to the human world and been saved by my mother.

As a doctor, my mother had saved Slone's life.

As fate would have it, their personalities clicked, and they became the best of friends.

Later, when my mother fell gravely ill, she brought a young, orphaned me to the Blackwood Pack, entrusting Slone to raise me.

To give me a legitimate reason to stay in a werewolf pack, Slone saw that I had inherited my mother's gift and wanted to train me as a healer for the werewolf world.

"Don't forget, Eloise. Your mother signed this pact. As long as the Blackwood pack stands, you belong to it as its healer."

A chill ran through me.

I understood that my mother and Slone had devised this as a compromise to ensure I could survive.

But now, it had become the very chain that bound me.

Slade closed the distance again, his fingers tracing my cheek in a deceptively gentle gesture. "Tomorrow night is the bonding ceremony. You must be there."

"Since you were naughty and destroyed the Moonlight Flower, you have to make it up to me," he whispered against my lips. "Prepare a vial of pure restorative essence. Present it to Rosalind. On your knees. Show everyone how much you love your new Luna."

"If you refuse," he released me and adjusted his collar, smirking. "I will burn this clinic to the ground. I know how much you love your mother's trash. Just like you burned that flower."

This clinic held all of my mother's manuscripts, the only things I had left of her in this world.

I looked at him, the man who had been my lover for ten years, now a complete stranger.

"Fine," I heard myself say, my voice unnaturally calm. "I'll be there. I'll give you the 'loyalty' you want."

Slade smiled, satisfied.

"See you tomorrow, Eloise. Wear something nice for me."

His figure disappeared into the night.

I picked up the vial of energy essence from the table, my fingers stroking the cool glass.

"A pact," I whispered, "must eventually be settled."

The Blackwood Pack's sacred altar square had never looked so solemn.

The grounds of the grand bonding ceremony were covered in flowers, but all I could smell was their sickeningly sweet stench.

I stood alone in the shadows below the altar, holding the vial of "doctored" energy essence.

The star of the evening, Rosalind, approached me, wearing a gown that seemed woven from moonlight. She carried herself with the full grace of a future Luna.

She stopped in front of me and held up her left hand, deliberately flashing it before my eyes.

On her finger was a massive ring.

It was set with a flawless moonstone.

Ten times larger, ten times purer than the one Slade had destroyed.

"See," Rosalind's voice was soft, for my ears only. "This is the difference, Eloise. Some stones are meant to be crushed. Others are meant for a crown."

I stared at the stone and replied numbly, "Congratulations. It suits you."

Slade walked over, dressed in a sharp ceremonial uniform, a golden wolf head embroidered on his chest.

His gaze passed over me and landed on Rosalind.

"What are you talking to my healer about?"

"It's time. Let's go."

He offered his arm, and Rosalind took it.

They walked toward the altar, looking like the perfect couple.

Just as the High Priest raised the sacred staff, as the union of purebloods was about to be sealed, a deafening explosion tore through the night sky. A floodlight tower at the edge of the square exploded without warning.

"Attack! It's Rogues!"

Someone screamed. Immediately, black-clad rogues swarmed in from all directions, armed with modified firearms and silver knives.

Chaos erupted. The attackers were clearly well-prepared.

A dark metal sphere, its fuse hissing, was thrown with precision toward the high platform.

It exploded in mid-air, releasing a cloud of purple smoke.

It was a bomb filled with wolf venom dust.

The bomb's trajectory was wickedly precise, aimed at the central point between Slade, Rosalind, and me.

Upon impact, the high concentration of wolf venom dust would be enough to instantly corrode our respiratory systems.

There was only a second to react, but that second stretched into an eternity.

Slade moved.

I watched him charge forward, instinctively reaching out my hand, thinking he would grab me first, just as he had in every moment of danger for the past ten years.

This time, he glanced at me, but his hand went past me.

He seized Rosalind by the waist, pulling her into a protective embrace.

To get a faster burst of speed, to push Rosalind further away, to absolute safety...

He used me as a springboard, kicking off my body to propel himself and her to safety while sending me flying into the center of the blast.

The shockwave, thick with purple dust, exploded.

I was thrown backward, my back hitting the cold stone steps of the altar with brutal force.

The purple smoke instantly filled my lungs.

For werewolves, wolf venom is a weakening agent. But for a human, a high concentration of it is a corrosive poison that eats away at the lungs.

Every breath felt like swallowing hot coals. The wolf venom dust invaded my lungs, viciously corroding my insides.

My vision began to blur. Blood poured from my mouth and nose.

In the moments before my vision faded to black, I forced my eyes open one last time, looking toward the high platform.

Through the spreading smoke, I saw Slade carrying an unharmed Rosalind toward the cover behind the altar.

He was anxiously asking if she was frightened.

In a daze, I thought I saw him glance back at me.

But what did it matter? He had sacrificed his "asset," the one he himself had kicked into a cloud of poison.

"Blackwood warriors, take care of these rogues!" Slade roared, unleashing his Alpha command.

The battle raged on, while I lay in a pool of my own blood.

As darkness finally fell, I wondered if Slade, even for a second, felt a flicker of remorse for the woman who had soothed him night after night.

But then again, his actions had already shown his choice.

And for me, this was a kind of release.