Zera’s POV

Their voices still echo in my mind. “What if she finds out?” Hannah’s trembling whisper had sliced through the air like a knife.

For a moment, I thought there might be a sliver of guilt in her tone. That maybe, just maybe, the woman I once called my sister felt remorse.

But Jeremiah’s laugh was cruel and cold. “You’re too naive, Hannah. Zera is loyal to a fault. She won’t question me, she never does.”

Then Hannah’s giggle followed, soft and wicked. “Poor Luna Zera. She’s too perfect to even suspect anything.”

I remember standing there, frozen in place, my heart pounding so hard it hurt. They went on mocking me, tearing me apart piece by piece, my devotion, my grief, my trust. Every word was another dagger in my chest.

“She still thinks Annie’s death was fate,” Jeremiah sneered. “She would never imagine I ordered those soldiers to choose differently.”

“And even if she does,” Hannah said, “what can she do? She’s just your Luna, and you’re her Alpha.”

Just his Luna. Not his equal. Just a title.

The room swam before my eyes as I stumbled away, forcing myself not to break down there. My wolf was howling in agony in the back of my mind. I wanted to tear through the door, to rip them both apart for what they’d done, but my heart, my broken, bleeding heart, still refused to let go.

Instead, I walked away. I walked until I reached the balcony overlooking the Moonshadow plains, the heart of our pack. Below me, the wolves were training, patrolling, living their lives as if nothing had shattered. The moon above looked down on me, silent and silver, as if it, too, was mourning.

And I fell to my knees.

The sobs came out of me like a storm I could no longer contain. Every cry echoed against the stone walls of the packhouse, swallowed by the wind. I clutched the railing, shaking, my tears dripping onto the marble like rain.

My wolf keened inside me, Our pup, our bond, everything we gave him…

I pressed a trembling hand to my stomach, where our new pup was growing. I should’ve felt joy. Instead, I felt betrayal burning in my veins.

Then my phone buzzed.

A small sound, almost insignificant, but it sliced through the quiet.

I blinked through my tears and looked down at the screen. The notification was from Moonbook, the social network our pack used.

The name on it made my heart stutter.

Hannah Linston had posted something. For reasons I couldn’t explain, my thumb hovered for a moment before I opened it.

And then my whole world turned black.

A photo filled the screen, two hands intertwined, their faces not shown. One hand belonged to a woman, delicate, pale, familiar. The other was large, tan, veined… masculine.

And on that wrist — that unmistakable bracelet of pure silver with an engraved moon symbol.

The bracelet I’d given Jeremiah for our second anniversary.

The caption beneath it read, “A miracle after all the pain. We can’t wait to meet our little one.”

My breath caught. My vision blurred. Pregnant.

She was pregnant. With my husband’s child.

And he wasn’t even hiding it, not really. The world could see. The pack could see. And I, his Luna, was reduced to a fool.

I felt something inside me snap, a soundless crack that tore through my chest and into my soul.

The phone slipped from my hand, clattering onto the balcony floor. I stared blankly at the horizon as the sun began to set, turning the sky into a cruel mix of red and gold.

My wolf’s growl rumbled through me. He betrayed the bond, Zera. He took everything from us, our pup, our dignity. What more must we lose before we fight back?

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. My breathing steadied. Slowly, a different kind of fire began to rise in me, not of sorrow, but of resolve.

I turned toward my office, my mind already racing. My fingers shook as I picked up my phone again, not to look at the post, but to make a call I never thought I’d make.

My father. Alpha Peter Hatunberg, the most feared and respected Alpha across the northern territories.

He had warned me once. “You don’t marry for love, daughter. You marry for legacy. Love fades. Duty endures.”

And I had defied him. For Jeremiah. For what I thought was love. I ran away from home just to marry him, and now, it seemed like my father was right.

My hand trembled as I dialed his number. It rang twice before his deep, familiar voice answered.

“Zera?” For a moment, I couldn’t speak. My throat closed, and my tears threatened to fall again. “Father…” I whispered.

There was silence. Then his tone softened, cautious. “It’s been years, little one. Why are you calling?”

I swallowed hard. “I want to come home. I will marry whoever that man you wanted me to marry years ago.”

He inhaled sharply. “What about Jeremiah? You left your family, your pack, everything for that Alpha.”

“I was wrong,” I said quietly, my voice trembling. “He betrayed me. He killed my daughter, Father. He’s been cheating on me… with my best friend.”

Another silence. I could almost hear the growl building in his chest through the phone.

“Did he harm you?”

“No,” I said, though my voice wavered. “Not yet. But he will. I can feel it. And I can’t stay here any longer.”

“Then come home,” my father said immediately, his tone commanding. “I’ll send an escort—”

“No,” I interrupted, straightening my shoulders. “Not yet. I’ll handle this my way. I’ll leave in seven days. One week. That’s all I need.”

He hesitated. “Zera…”

“I’ll do what you wanted, Father,” I said, cutting him off again. “I’ll marry whoever you choose. I’ll do it your way this time.”

I could almost feel his surprise through the phone. “You mean that?”

“Yes.” My voice hardened. “I’m done following my heart. This time, I’ll follow my blood.”

There was a long pause. Then I heard the sound of his breath steadying. “Very well,” he said at last, his Alpha tone returning. “I’ll tell your brothers you’re coming home.”

My heart squeezed at the mention of them, my three older brothers, each an Alpha of their own territory. They had warned me before I left.

“Jeremiah Clinton will never love you the way you deserve, Zera,” my eldest brother had said.

But I hadn’t listened.

Now, the memory burned like salt on a wound.

“Tell them,” I whispered, my voice trembling with restrained fury. “Tell them the Moonshadow Alpha has made an enemy of the Hatunbergs.”

My father’s voice dropped, low and dangerous. “Then may the Goddess have mercy on his soul.”

The call ended, but my heart was thundering.

Seven days. In seven days, I would no longer be Luna of Moonshadow Pack. In seven days, I would no longer be Alpha Jeremiah Clinton’s wife.

I looked out toward the horizon again. The crimson sun had sunk completely now, swallowed by night. The first silver light of the moon shimmered over the plains, reflecting in my eyes.

My wolf stirred, her fury matching my own. They think we’re broken, she growled. They think we’ll crawl away in silence.

“No,” I whispered. “We’ll make them remember who I am.”

Zera’s POV

My room smelled faintly of lavender and dust, the scent of a home that no longer felt like mine.

The sun had barely risen when I began to pack. I folded dresses that had once made me feel beautiful, pressed down coats that still carried Jeremiah’s scent, and stacked the life I’d built here into neat, fragile piles. Every movement was deliberate, mechanical.

Seven days. That’s all I had before I walked out of Moonshadow Pack for good.

As I crouched by the bottom drawer, something caught my eye, a folded piece of paper sticking out from the corner. I reached for it, frowning. Then another, and another. Soon, I realized it wasn’t just one, it was a small stack of drawings, crumpled but colorful.

I sat on the floor, my knees drawn to my chest, and slowly unfolded the first one.

It was Annie’s drawing.

The stick figures were crooked and bright with color. There was me, wearing a blue dress. Jeremiah, drawn taller, with messy brown hair and a big smile. And between us, a small girl with golden hair and wide eyes. Annie had drawn herself holding both our hands.

The title at the top read: My Family.

My vision blurred. I lifted another one, this time, the three of us standing under a moon, surrounded by wolves. She had written the words Our Pack Will Always Be Together.

I pressed the paper to my chest, a sob catching in my throat. “Oh, my sweet girl…” My voice cracked.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I gathered all her drawings in my arms. There were so many, little pieces of her imagination, her dreams, her love. Every page was a memory, every crayon stroke a heartbeat of the daughter I’d lost.

Except she wasn’t lost.

Her heart was still beating, inside the woman who destroyed me. My chest tightened painfully.

I didn’t even notice the door open until a deep voice interrupted the silence.

“Zera?”

I stiffened, quickly wiping my tears. Alpha Jeremiah stood at the doorway, tall and composed, his scent filling the room, that familiar mix of pinewood and smoke that once made me feel safe.

Now it only made me sick.

He glanced around, his eyes landing on the open suitcases and the scattered papers on the floor. “What are you doing? What’s all this?”

I forced a smile, keeping my tone even. “Just rearranging my closet.”

His brows furrowed. “Rearranging? It looks like you’re moving out.”

“If I were,” I said softly, folding another piece of clothing, “would it matter?”

He hesitated, but before he could answer, another scent invaded the air, sweet, floral, nauseatingly familiar.

Hannah. I froze. My hands curled into fists as she stepped into the room behind him, her belly barely showing but glowing with arrogance. The mate bond between Jeremiah and me pulsed painfully, warning me of the betrayal standing beside him.

Every part of me screamed to lunge, to rip her apart, to tear that stolen heart from her chest, my daughter’s heart.

But I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

Instead, I lifted my gaze, meeting hers. My voice came out cold. “Why is she here?”

Jeremiah shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “Hannah will be staying with us for a while.”

The words didn’t make sense at first. I blinked slowly, my mind struggling to process them. “What?”

“She’s… she’s pregnant,” he said finally, his tone careful, as if waiting for me to explode.

I looked at him, then at her. Hannah’s lips curved into a shy smile, her hands resting over her stomach.

My heart went silent. Then, quietly, I said, “And?”

Hannah’s smile faltered. “I thought you’d be happy for me.”

I laughed under my breath, the sound sharp and bitter. “Happy?” I echoed. “Yeah, sure.”

Jeremiah’s expression hardened. “Zera, that’s enough. Why are you even acting this way? You should be happy your bestfriend is expecting a baby.”

“Are you sure that baby isn’t yours, Alpha? Because you seem so concern,” I said, standing now, meeting his eyes head-on.

His aura flared, the weight of his Alpha power pressing into the room. “No. I don’t know what the heck you are talking about. Hannah needs us, that’s why I offered our home,” he said firmly. “There’s no one else to take care of her. She’s carrying life.”

I clenched my jaw. “And that’s supposed to make me agree with this setup?”

He growled softly, frustration flashing in his eyes. “I’m not a monster, Zera. I won’t turn her away just because of your bitterness.”

My laugh came out like a blade. “Bitterness? That’s what you call it, Alpha?”

“You’re jealous,” he shot back. “Hannah’s pregnant, and instead of being happy for her, you’re acting like—”

“Like what?” I interrupted sharply. What kind of monster prioritizes his mistress’s life over his own daughter? I wanted to ask him that question, but I stopped myself.

For a moment, the air between us froze.

His gaze darkened dangerously. “You’re really hardheaded. Aren’t you concern? If you’re such a lacking mother before, don’t project your insecurities to Hannah who only wants the best for her baby.”

I swallowed hard after hearing that, lowering my tone, forcing control. “Never mind,” I muttered, turning away, “you should let her rest. That’s what I said.”

My wolf stirred restlessly, warning me to tread carefully. I couldn’t let him know I’d overheard everything. Not yet.

Hannah’s voice broke the tension. “Luna, I didn’t mean to—”

I turned to her slowly, my eyes cold. “Just do what you want.” After all, it seemed like I didn’t have any say on this.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She looked to Jeremiah for help, but he only sighed, stepping between us.

“Enough,” he said firmly. “Hannah will stay here, and that’s final. You’ll treat her with respect. She’s family.”

Family. The word made bile rise in my throat.

I nodded stiffly. “Just like I said, fine.” My voice was calm, detached, the calm before the storm. “If that’s what you want, Alpha.”

Jeremiah frowned at the title. He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t let him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I said, bending down to pick up Annie’s drawings, “I have to finish rearranging my closet.”

He hesitated again, but when he saw the cold finality in my eyes, he turned and led Hannah out of the room.

As the door closed behind them, I let out a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Just seven more days, and I’d be gone. Gone from this cursed pack. Gone from this man who once made me believe in forever. Gone from the woman who carried my daughter’s heart and called it her own.

Zera’s POV

I couldn’t sleep that night. No matter how I turned or how tightly I shut my eyes, the darkness only made the ache worse. My heart pounded against my ribs, restless and heavy, like it wanted to claw its way out of my chest. The silence of the main bedroom was suffocating, too still, too clean for the chaos inside me.

Alpha Jeremiah’s steady breathing beside me once brought comfort. Now, it only felt like mockery. The bond between us, once warm and sacred, was nothing more than a thread strangling my heart.

When he shifted beside me, I pretended to be asleep. His weight left the bed, and the faint creak of the door followed. I waited until I heard his footsteps fade down the hall before sitting up. My wolf stirred inside me, uneasy.

He’s not just going out for air, she whispered.

I already knew.

I pressed a trembling hand over my mouth, forcing back the sobs threatening to escape. The moonlight spilling through the window painted the room in pale silver, a cruel reminder of the goddess I once prayed to, the same one who let my daughter die, who let my mate betray me.

My throat was dry, so I got up to get water. The hallway outside was dim, lit only by the lanterns at each corner. The moment I stepped out, a faint sound reached me, soft at first, then unmistakable.

A moan. Then another.

I froze. My pulse thudded in my ears as I followed the sound, unwillingly, like a wounded wolf drawn toward the scent of blood. It came from the guest room, her room. Hannah’s.

The door wasn’t fully closed. Through the small crack, I saw movements, shadows tangled in each other. My breath caught, and my knees weakened. I didn’t need to see more. I already knew.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted iron. My body trembled violently, and I turned away before I screamed.

Down the hall, my hands instinctively went to my belly. There was life inside me, tiny, fragile, pure. My baby. Our baby. But even as I touched my stomach, all I could think was how cruel the Moon Goddess must be to let a monster like Jeremiah father another life.

Tears slipped down my cheeks as I whispered, “You’ll be safe, little one. I swear to you, you’ll never live in his shadow.”

When the first rays of dawn broke through the window, I was still awake. My body ached from exhaustion, but I refused to let myself rest. Not when I had to face him again.

Jeremiah came into the room, already dressed. He smelled of soap and pinewood, but underneath that, I could still catch her scent clinging to him. My stomach turned.

“Zera,” he started, clearing his throat like he wanted to sound casual. “We need to talk.”

I met his gaze from across the room, my voice steady despite the storm inside. “About what?”

He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Hannah needs the master’s bedroom.”

For a heartbeat, I didn’t process it. Then I blinked, staring at him. “What?”

“She’s pregnant,” he said as if I hadn’t already known, as if that justified everything. “She needs comfort. The master’s room has the best view, the softest bed—”

“And I’m supposed to move out?” My voice rose, disbelief cutting through my restraint.

He sighed impatiently, like I was being unreasonable. “It’s not permanent. Just until she gives birth. You of all people should understand that.”

“I understand perfectly,” I said coldly. “You want to make her comfortable while your Luna sleeps in the guest room.”

“Zera, don’t make this difficult,” he said, rubbing his temples. “It’s for her health. You know I’m not a monster.”

My laugh came out hollow. Not a monster. If only he knew how that sounded to me now.

But I bit back every word, every truth I wanted to throw at his face. Not yet. Not until everything was ready.

So I forced my lips into a trembling smile and said softly, “Fine. Do what you want.”

He seemed relieved, muttering something about talking to the omegas to start moving furniture.

I watched him go, my chest hollow. The moment the door shut, I whispered, “You already did what you wanted, Alpha. You just don’t know I’m done letting you.”

After breakfast, I noticed how rushed he was, checking his watch, glancing at the door. Hannah’s voice called him from outside the house.

It made bile rise in my throat.

But I seized that moment. I approached him with a stack of papers in my hands. “Before you go, can you sign these?”

He barely looked at them. “What’s this?”

“Pack paperwork,” I lied smoothly. “Just financial approvals for the upcoming quarter.”

He frowned. “Can’t this wait?”

“No,” I said firmly. “You’re the Alpha, remember? The council won’t process anything without your signature.”

He groaned in irritation, snatching the pen from me. “Fine. Make it quick.”

I held the papers steady as he scrawled his name on the last page, the divorce decree. The very one that would free me from him.

When he handed them back, I smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

He didn’t even notice the edge in my tone as Hannah called for him again. He left, and the door closed behind him.

The second he was gone, I grabbed my phone and dialed my lawyer.

“It’s done,” I said flatly. “He signed it.”

The voice on the other line paused, then asked, “You’re sure, Luna?”

“Yes. It’s over. File it immediately.”

And for the first time in a long while, I laughed. But it wasn’t joy, it was something dark and broken, a sound that barely resembled me.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, looking around the room that once symbolized love and loyalty. Now, it was just a grave of memories.

I started packing again, throwing clothes into suitcases. Each fold of fabric felt like shedding another piece of a life I no longer wanted.

That was when I heard the door open.

“Zera?”

Her voice. I turned around slowly, seeing Hannah standing in the doorway. Her hand rested gently on her stomach, the very same stomach that carried my husband’s child, and my daughter’s heart beating inside it.

“I wanted to help you,” she said softly, stepping into the room.

I didn’t answer. Instead of touching my things, she wandered to the corner where I’d kept Annie’s drawings, her toys, her cabinet, her little shrine.

“Don’t touch that,” I warned quietly.

But she either didn’t hear me or chose to ignore it. She opened the cabinet doors, eyes scanning the items curiously. Then she spotted it, the moonstone jar sitting on the lowest shelf. The urn.

“What’s this?” she asked, reaching for it.

My heart clenched. “Hannah,” I said, sharper this time, “don’t touch that.”

But she lifted it anyway, turning it in her hands. “It’s so pretty…”

“That’s Annie’s ashes,” I hissed. “Put it down.”

Her eyes widened a fraction. For a moment, I thought she’d obey.

Then she gasped, pretending to lose grip. “Oh—”

The jar slipped from her fingers.

It hit the floor with a dull crack before splitting open, spilling pale ash across the carpet.

I froze. Time seemed to stop. The air left my lungs in one painful rush.