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.

Zera’s POV

The crash of the moonstone jar echoed through the room like thunder. I stood frozen, staring at the pale ashes scattered across the floor, Annie’s ashes. My baby’s remains.

Hannah’s eyes widened, and she stumbled back a step, clutching her chest. “Z-Zera, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t you dare!” I screamed, my voice breaking as the tears finally spilled. “Don’t you dare lie to me!”

My wolf roared in my chest, clawing to get out, to tear her apart for what she’d done. I lunged forward, my hand moving before my mind could catch up. The sharp crack of my palm against her cheek silenced everything.

Hannah gasped, her hand flying to her face. Her eyes filled with tears, fake tears. I could tell. I could always tell.

“You don’t touch her things! You don’t touch anything that belongs to my daughter!” I shouted, trembling from head to toe.

Before she could respond, the door slammed open. Alpha Jeremiah burst inside, his eyes wild. “What the hell is going on here?”

Hannah immediately ran toward him, sobbing. “She—she hit me, Alpha! I was just trying to help her clean and—”

“Help me?” I laughed bitterly, my tears blurring everything. “You shattered Annie’s urn! You did it on purpose!”

Jeremiah’s gaze darted between us, then to the ashes on the floor. His jaw tightened. “You hit her?”

“She—”

He cut me off, stepping forward. “Answer me, Zera! Did you hit her?”

“She deserved it!” I spat, my voice shaking. “She broke Annie’s urn, Alpha! She’s pretending it was an accident, but I saw her smirk before she dropped it!”

Hannah whimpered, hiding her face against his chest. “I swear, I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to help. She scares me, Alpha. She’s not… she’s not herself anymore.”

Jeremiah’s arm immediately went around her, shielding her from me. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Zera?!” he roared.

My heart stopped. He looked at me with disgust, as if I were the enemy, not the woman who shared his bed, not the mother of his dead daughter.

“You’re pathetic,” he growled. “Jealous because your best friend’s pregnant and you’re not. Bitter because she’s happy and you’re not. You’re using Annie’s death as an excuse to attack her.”

My lips parted, disbelief flooding me. “You think I’m jealous?” I whispered. “Of her?”

“Annie’s dead, Zera!” he snapped. “She’s gone! And you can’t keep blaming everyone else because you weren’t a good enough mother to protect her! Don’t use her urn to gain my damn sympathy. It’s just mere ashes now.”

That broke me.

My knees went weak. The air in the room seemed to vanish. “Don’t,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Don’t you dare put that on me. You—”

“How fucking dare you to blame me?!” I cried, louder this time, tears streaming down my face.

“Enough!” Jeremiah shouted, his voice echoing through the room like thunder.

Then his hand moved faster than my eyes could follow. The slap landed hard against my cheek. My head snapped to the side, the sting burning through my skin. The force sent me stumbling back until I hit the edge of the cabinet and fell to the floor.

For a moment, the world went silent.

Pain bloomed across my face, hot and humiliating. The taste of blood touched my tongue, sharp and metallic.

I looked up at him, at the man I had once believed was my destiny, and saw nothing but fury in his eyes. No remorse. No love.

Hannah gasped dramatically, rushing toward him. “Alpha, please!” she cried. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have tried to help her. I didn’t mean to upset her!”

I knew her act too well. The trembling lip, the tears, the soft voice, it was all a performance.

And Jeremiah fell for it.

He turned to me, rage flaring again. “Look what you’ve done! You terrified her!”

“I can’t believe you,” I uttered, my voice breaking. “You’re really protecting another she-wolf over the mother of your dead daughter—“

“I said, enough!” he cut me off again. “I’ve had enough of your drama, Zera! You’re losing control, and I won’t let you destroy everything because of your bitterness.”

“I’m your mate!” I shouted, my voice raw. “Your Luna!”

“You’re acting like a rabid omega,” he snarled. “Until you can control yourself, you’ll stay locked in this room. That’s an order.”

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head as panic gripped me. “Alpha, please. Don’t do this.”

He didn’t even look at me as he called through the mind link, summoning his guards. Two wolf warriors entered within seconds, their heads bowed.

“Confine her to the bedroom,” Jeremiah ordered coldly. “No one goes in or out unless I say so.”

“Alpha—”

“Now!”

The warriors hesitated, but one look from him was enough. They grabbed my arms, dragging me backward as I struggled.

“Alpha!” I screamed, my voice breaking. “You can’t do this! You can’t—”

He didn’t respond.

Then the door slammed shut, locking me inside.

At first, I screamed. I shouted his name over and over until my throat burned. I pounded my fists against the door until my knuckles split open. But no one came.

The guards outside didn’t move, didn’t speak.

Hours passed, maybe days, I couldn’t tell anymore. The light outside the window shifted from gold to gray to darkness again. There was no food. No water.

Only silence.

I tried mind-linking him. Alpha, please. Please, just talk to me.

Nothing.

Alpha, I’m sorry.

Still nothing.

Each time I reached out through the bond, it was like shouting into an endless void. His presence was there, but cold, shut off completely.

The mark on my neck ached. The bond that once connected our souls now burned like fire, suffocating me.