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.

Zera’s POV

I lost track of time inside that dark room.

Days, or maybe weeks, passed, and I stopped counting somewhere between the hunger and the silence. The moonlight that used to comfort me no longer reached through the barred window. My wolf had grown quiet too, curling in on herself, her once-vibrant growls now replaced by faint whimpers echoing in my chest.

When the door finally opened, the sound of the hinges screeching felt like thunder. I squinted against the sudden flood of light and saw him—Alpha Jeremiah—standing there with his usual cold authority.

He didn’t look at me like I was his mate. He looked at me like I was something that stained his floor.

“You should thank Hannah,” he said flatly, crossing his arms over his chest. “If it weren’t for her, you’d still be rotting here.”

His words stabbed deeper than the hunger pangs. My throat was raw, my voice hoarse when I whispered, “How generous of her.”

His expression hardened, but I caught the flicker of discomfort before it disappeared. “She pleaded for your release,” he continued. “For the sake of your friendship.”

I almost laughed, but the sound that came out was dry and bitter. “Friendship,” I echoed, forcing a smile that hurt my cracked lips. “Truly noble of her.”

He didn’t reply. He just stared at me as if waiting for gratitude. I pushed myself up from the cold floor, my body trembling under the strain. My knees nearly gave out, but he didn’t reach for me. Not even when I stumbled. His hands stayed buried in his pockets, his eyes cold.

“Make sure you clear out everything from the master bedroom,” he said, turning his back on me. “Hannah will be moving there.”

He left before I could say anything. The door clicked shut behind him, and my wolf whimpered again, quieter this time. I stayed there for a long while, my heart pounding dully in my chest. When I finally forced myself to move, every step felt like dragging broken bones.

Hours later, the door opened again. This time, it was Hannah.

She carried a tray with a small bowl of soup, steam curling faintly in the air. “I thought you’d be hungry,” she said sweetly, setting it down beside me. “You must be weak.”

Her voice was sugar and poison all at once. I stared at her, too tired to mask the hatred in my eyes.

“I wanted to help,” she continued, crouching down, her perfect curls framing her delicate face. “I told Alpha Jeremiah you didn’t deserve to die in here. We used to be friends, Zera.”

“Used to,” I said quietly.

She smiled—cold and knowing. “You know,” she whispered, her tone changing, “I was wondering when you’d find out that I know you’re already aware of the truth.”

My stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes glittered with triumph. “The Alpha’s office. You were there, weren’t you?” She leaned closer, her scent—roses and deception—burning in my nose. “You know the truth now. That it was my safety Alpha Jeremiah prioritized that night… and because of that, your daughter died.”

I felt the air leave my lungs. My wolf snarled inside me, furious and wild, but my body refused to move. Hannah smiled wider, lowering her voice.

“And do you know what else?” she whispered. “Annie’s heart… it beats in me now. Oh! You also overheard that, my bad!”

My blood turned to ice. My gaze snapped to her chest. “You—” The word broke off, trembling.

She tilted her head. “How does it feel, knowing a part of your child keeps me alive?”

I stood, shaking, rage overtaking exhaustion. My hand itched to strike her, to claw that smug smile off her face, but before I could move, she did something I never expected.

Hannah picked up the knife from the tray and sliced her arm open.

The metallic scent of blood filled the room. I gasped as she shoved the knife into my hand, her eyes wide with feigned terror.

Then she screamed. Loud. High-pitched. Shattering.

The door burst open almost instantly.

Alpha Jeremiah stormed in, his aura suffocating the room. “What the hell—” His eyes landed on Hannah, bleeding and sobbing, then on me—with the knife in my hand.

“It’s not—” I started, but he didn’t let me finish.

He struck me. The sound of the slap echoed through the walls. My head snapped to the side, and I tasted blood. Before I could steady myself, his foot drove into my stomach, knocking the breath out of me.

“Alpha—stop!” I tried to scream, curling over the pain. “I didn’t—”

He didn’t stop. His voice was venom. “How could you? She tried to help you! You’re nothing but a curse!”

I struggled to speak, but every breath burned. I wanted to tell him, to beg him to listen, that I was carrying his child. That he was hurting not just me.

“I’m—” I gasped, tears mixing with blood. “I’m preg—”

“Shut up!” he bellowed. “Don’t you dare lie to me again!”

Hannah whimpered from the corner, her sobs perfectly timed. “It’s my fault,” she said shakily, clutching her wound. “I shouldn’t have come here… she just snapped.”

“Enough!” Jeremiah growled, gathering her into his arms. His wolf energy flared, powerful and protective, but not for me.

For her. They left in a rush, heading to the infirmary. The door slammed shut, leaving me crumpled on the floor, the taste of iron heavy on my tongue.

For a long time, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, the pain in my stomach spreading like fire. Then instinct took over.

I dragged myself up. Step by step. Every movement tore through me, but I refused to stop.

I reached the front gates of the packhouse, ignored the guards’ horrified faces, and stumbled into a taxi, leaving streaks of blood on the seat. I told the driver one word. “Hospital.”

When the doctor came out hours later, his face told me everything before he even spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “The baby couldn’t be saved.”

My world went silent. No heartbeat. No future. Nothing but hollow ache.

Alpha Jeremiah never came. Not that night. Not the next morning. Not even after the pack healer sent word. I waited. I hoped. I broke.

And when the third sunrise came, something inside me shifted. The ache turned cold. The bond between us still hummed faintly, but I felt it thinning—like a thread ready to snap.

Three days later, he finally called for me.

There was to be a celebration, his birthday, and a gathering of Alphas from neighboring packs. He told me to “be presentable.”

I stood before the mirror, pale and ghostlike.

When he saw me before the event, his tone was softer. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he said. “That’s good. I like it when you’re obedient.”

I smiled faintly, but it never reached my eyes. “Of course, Alpha.”

He frowned slightly, maybe sensing the emptiness behind my words. Then he leaned in to kiss me. I turned at the last second, and his lips brushed my cheek instead. His confusion flickered, but he said nothing. Just sighed and muttered, “See you later.”

Hannah appeared then, her arm perfectly bandaged, her eyes bright as she clung to him. “We’ll be late,” she chirped.

They left together.

And they didn’t know it then, but it was the last time they’d ever see me.

When the door shut, I turned to the desk where I’d been working all morning. Papers lay scattered—divorce papers, medical reports, proof of everything they’d done. Evidence that Alpha Jeremiah had paid the soldiers I hired to sabotage Annie’s rescue, that Hannah received my daughter’s heart. I’d gathered it all.

I sealed the documents in an envelope, addressed to Alpha Jeremiah, and tied it with silver thread. On top, I wrote a note,

Happy birthday, my Alpha.

— Zera Hatunberg.

Then I called Beta Amiel.

“Give this to him,” I said, handing him the envelope. “During the celebration.”

He looked at me warily. “Luna… are you sure?”

“I’m not Luna anymore,” I whispered. “Just do it.”

He nodded, understanding the unspoken finality in my voice.

When the limousine from my family’s pack arrived, I climbed in without hesitation. I didn’t look back at the mansion. Not at the territory I once ruled beside him. Not at the pack I had loved more than myself.

As the gates closed behind me, my wolf stirred faintly.

I looked out the window, the full moon glinting faintly through the clouds.

And in that pale light, I made my silent vow.

They would regret the day they broke me.