"Don't worry, I'm not that petty." The practiced smile slid into place like armor. "What's the status of the land in the southern suburbs?"

Lucas Dickerson shifted gears seamlessly. "That plot has hit its ceiling. Zero room for appreciation. We need to offload it immediately."

"Selling now would be a bloodbath." A sigh escaped—convincingly reluctant. "We'd be taking a massive loss."

"Even so, it has to go. Holding onto it will only bleed us dry." With that final verdict, he turned and walked away.

The moment he disappeared around the corner, the concern melted from my face. My phone was already in my hand, thumbs flying across the screen: *The land is available. Press the price down another thirty percent.*

When I returned to the villa after work, an unpleasant surprise waited at the door.

My in-laws had arrived.

They had never looked at me with anything other than disdain. Even before my family went bankrupt—when I was funneling resources to save the Dickerson empire—they felt their precious son deserved a woman with a more prestigious pedigree. Consequently, they rarely set foot in this house.

Their presence today wasn't a social call.

In the living room, my in-laws flanked Evelyn Gilbert on the sofa like bodyguards protecting royalty. The three of them chatted animatedly, laughter ringing off the crystal chandelier. The picture of a perfect, happy family.

Lucas sat opposite them, peeling a tangerine. When I entered, a flicker of guilt passed through his eyes.

Gone in an instant.

"You actually remembered you have a home?"

My mother-in-law launched the first strike, her voice shrill enough to shatter glass. "A woman who shows her face in public all day and neglects her family is a *disgrace*!"

My father-in-law kept his expression stony. "Go cook. Evelyn is hungry."

"Okay."

I nodded submissively, turned on my heel, and headed for the kitchen.

Lucas followed moments later. He stood beside me at the counter, hesitating for a second before lowering his voice. "I know this is unfair to you."

"I don't mind." The gentle, sacrificial smile came easily—I'd worn it for years. "Lucas, the kindness you showed me back then... I'll spend my whole life repaying it."

"You won't need to do much." His tone was dismissive, almost bored. "Evelyn is moving in. You just need to handle the daily chores and take care of us."

"No problem."

Soon, a table laden with intricate dishes was ready.

"Stand over there. We'll call you if we need anything." My mother-in-law pointed to the corner. Her tone brooked no argument.

I obeyed. Standing silently like a statue, ready to pour tea or refill water at a moment's notice. After the meal, they demanded tea and snacks. I served them with unwavering patience.

My absolute compliance left Evelyn frustrated; the schemes she had prepared to humiliate me were useless against a wall of submission.

Unwilling to let the moment pass, she suddenly burst into tears.

"Evelyn, honey, why are you crying?" My mother-in-law was instantly frantic. "Did that *wench* Daniela give you a dirty look?" A venomous glare shot in my direction.

Years ago, before my family fell, she had treated me like her own daughter.

Now I was just a *wench* in her mouth.

"No," Evelyn sobbed, gasping for air. "It's... it's my mother. She scolded me today."

"Tell us, why would she scold you?" My father-in-law leaned forward, brow furrowed with concern.

"My parents think I'm an embarrassment." She choked on the words. "They said I have no status, no title. They said I'm no different from a *mistress*, and because of me, they can't show their faces in public!"

"Don't cry, Evelyn. I'll handle this!" My mother-in-law's finger trembled as she pointed it at me. "You. Divorce Lucas immediately! Agree quietly, and we might let you stay in the servant's quarters. Refuse—" Her eyes narrowed. "—and you're out of the Dickerson family tonight."

My father-in-law's voice was ice. "Hurry up and sign the papers. Stop occupying the position of Mrs. Dickerson."

Lucas looked at me, his eyes heavy with guilt, yet his words were ruthless. "Daniela, a marriage certificate is just a piece of paper. We don't need it to be family. In my heart, you'll always be one of us." A pause. "You've held the title of Mrs. Dickerson long enough. Just give it to Evelyn."

"Okay. As you wish."

My face was a mask of calm.

But Evelyn wailed even louder. "If we just divorce like this, people will still say I stole your husband! They'll call me a homewrecker!"

Lucas thought for a moment, then turned to me. "Daniela, post a statement on Weibo. Say that you were the one who pursued me aggressively back then, and that *you* were the third party who ruined my relationship with Evelyn."

"Okay."

Of course, *what* I actually posted would not be up to him.

For five years, I wore a mating band that never bound me beneath the moon.

There was no Moon Rite. No silver altar dusted with nightbloom petals. No packs gathered in ceremonial rows. No vows spoken beneath the blessing of the Full Moon. Only a thin iron ring and a private contract Thorne, the Alpha of Ridgefern Territory, claimed was enough.

We never once stood inside a Moon Hall. Each time I asked, he said we would “complete the bond later,” that formal recognition could wait until the borders were stable and the council stopped pressing him. Later never came.

I remembered it clearly—just a week ago.

I was folding his tunics in our shared chamber, smoothing the creases from fabric scented with frost and iron, when I finally found the courage to speak.

“Thorne,” I said softly, keeping my voice steady, “the fifth moon cycle since our bond is coming. Maybe… maybe we could hold the Rite this time? Properly. Just the two of us, even.”

He didn’t look away from the reports glowing beneath his claw-marked fingers.

“Why?” he said flatly. “We’re already bound. Ceremonies are for wolves who crave attention.”

“You promised we would,” I murmured. “You said once the territory wasn’t so strained—”

His fingers stilled.

“And now you’re whining,” he cut in coldly. “Enough, Rayna. We don’t waste silver and moonfire on pointless rituals.”

As always, I swallowed my words.

I let the silence stretch. I pushed the ache down where it wouldn’t trouble him.

But today—today was different.

Today marked five years since the night I believed I became his Luna. Thorne said he couldn’t mark the date. Border disputes. Council summons. Too much pressure. Not even an hour to spare.

I didn’t argue. I never did.

I told myself it wasn’t about recognition. That it wasn’t about standing beneath the moon while the pack acknowledged me.

I decided I would prepare his favorite meal instead. Light moonlamps. Burn calming herbs. Wait for him.

It wasn’t grand, but it was something. My quiet way of honoring a bond no one else had witnessed.

So I went to the market at dawn.

I moved slowly through the stalls carved from old stone, choosing herbs and meat with care, checking each cut twice. I even bought a bundle of white moon-lilies—the kind he once said reminded him of peace, back when he still visited my old den.

I held them close as I walked home, embarrassed by the small, fragile hope blooming in my chest.

I was only a street away from the Council Hall when I felt it.

A sharp pull in my core. A warning, instinctive and wrong.

I hadn’t planned to look. I had no reason to stop.

But my steps slowed anyway.

And then I saw them.

Thorne.

And Rionna.

My sister—who had vanished five years ago, abandoning her pack bond without a trace.

They emerged from the Council Hall together, her arm looped through his, their auras brushing easily, familiarly.

I froze.

The satchels slipped in my hands. The moon-lilies nearly fell.

Rionna held a parchment stamped with glowing silver runes.

A completed mate registration.

My stomach turned to ice.

Her voice drifted toward me, uncertain. “Are you sure this is allowed?” she asked him. “What about Rayna? She’s still bonded to you, isn’t she?”

Thorne didn’t hesitate.

“I don’t care about her,” he said. “That wasn’t a true bond. I never brought her before the Council for a reason. This—” he gestured to the parchment “—this is real. Now that you’re back, I’ll deal with her soon.”

The world rang in my ears.

Rionna’s voice trembled. “You still want me? Even after I fled? I thought you’d hate me. I was terrified back then.”

He turned to her with a softness I had once mistaken as love.

“It was always you,” he said. “You weren’t ready before. That’s all. Now you are.”

He bent and kissed her.

My breath lodged painfully in my throat.

She pulled back slightly. “And my sister… did you ever care for her at all?”

He laughed under his breath.

“Never,” he said. “She was convenient. She looks like you. She kept the den warm. That was her use.”

Something inside me cracked.

Five years ago, that Moon Rite was meant for them.

Rionna and Thorne.

The packs had gathered. The altar was prepared. The moon was full.

But then she disappeared.

No message. No explanation.

Gone.

Thorne had shattered that night. I found him drunk in a border tavern, shaking, staring into nothing.

I sat beside him.

I listened.

I stayed.

When he cried, I didn’t move away.

When he leaned close, I didn’t stop him.

And when he kissed me, I let it happen.

A week later, he asked me to become his mate.

I said yes.

I thought I was saving him.

I thought I was choosing love.

I thought I mattered.

But standing there, hidden behind the stone pillar of the Council Hall, I finally understood.

Every touch.

Every whispered promise.

Every claim of love.

They were echoes. Borrowed. Never mine.

Then more voices joined them.

Arion. And Axton. My elder brothers.

“You already sealed the bond?” Arion said approvingly. “Fast work.”

Axton laughed. “What about the public Rite? We should move Rayna out first. She’ll cause trouble if she finds out. Maybe exile her to a border pack.”

My hand clenched against the stone wall until my skin split.

Arion added lightly, “Best to deal with her soon. She’s unstable.”

They laughed.

All of them.

The same brothers who once cursed Rionna for running. The same ones who swore to protect me.

Now they were laughing about erasing me.

A strange numbness settled over me.

I wasn’t just unwanted.

I was a substitute. A mistake.

I turned away.

My feet carried me forward without thought.

I ran. Past the gates. Past the market. Past the ringing in my ears.

My lungs burned. My vision blurred. The world narrowed to motion and noise.

I heard nothing clearly. Except… a horn. The screech of brakes. And then…

Impact.

The world collapsed inward.

And everything went black.

Pain was the first thing that greeted me when my eyes finally opened.

It seeped through my body like slow-burning moonfire—my arms aching dully, my leg screaming with sharp, vicious intensity. I tried to sit up on instinct, but a firm yet gentle hand pressed me back down.

“Easy,” a healer said, her voice calm and practiced. “You were caught in a collision near the eastern road. Your ankle is fractured, and the rest are minor wounds. Your wolf hasn’t recovered yet. Don’t move.”

A collision.

The word echoed hollowly.

And then everything rushed back—Thorne. Rionna. The glowing council parchment in her hands. My brothers laughing. The way my heart felt like it had been torn open. Running. The blare of a warning horn. White light.

The carriage.

I swallowed hard. “How long… have I been here?”

“Nearly a full day,” she replied, checking the rune-lit crystal beside my bed. Then she slowed, her expression softening. “There’s something else you need to know.”

My pulse spiked. “What is it?”

She paused only briefly. “You were carrying a pup. Just over two months along. I’m sorry—the impact severed the moon thread.”

The words didn’t register at first.

I stared at her. “A pup…?”

She nodded and gently squeezed my fingers.

“I didn’t know,” I whispered. “I really didn’t…”

My mind went eerily still, while something inside my chest shattered completely. In one night, I had lost everything I never even knew I had.

“Would you like me to summon someone from your pack?” the healer asked softly.

My thoughts drifted to Thorne—the Alpha who had claimed me in name only. Then to Arion and Axton, the brothers who once swore blood-oaths to protect me, who now laughed about discarding me.

But I couldn’t bear the emptiness.

“I… need my communicator,” I said hoarsely.

She placed it in my hand. The first name I called was Thorne’s.

No answer.

I tried again.

“The bond you seek is unreachable.”

Again.

Nothing.

The tears came fast and unbidden. He wasn’t coming. None of them were. Rionna had returned—and I had already been erased.

Later, the healer returned and placed a small basket on the table.

“Someone left this for you,” she said quietly. “Food, moon-lilies. He said he was a healer… the one who brought you in.”

I frowned. “A healer?”

She nodded. “He didn’t give his name. Just told me to make sure you rested.”

After she left, I stared at the basket. The scent of food turned my stomach. I pushed it aside and picked up my communicator, opening the pack network feed—desperate for anything. Guilt. Concern. Proof I still mattered.

That was when I saw it.

Images.

Recordings.

Arion. Axton. Thorne. Rionna.

Laughing beneath enchanted lights. Holding sugarfruit and festival bread. Standing before Silvercrest Palace like a perfect family unit.

The caption read:

“First outing as a true Alpha family. Long overdue.”

My chest locked painfully.

True family?

Then what had I been?

I cried until my vision burned, until my throat ached, until there was nothing left inside me but hollow exhaustion.

By morning, my communicator buzzed. It was Thorne.

I stared at the name before answering.

“Rayna!” His voice sounded sharp, almost frantic. “Why didn’t you say you were in the infirmary? Why didn’t you contact us properly?!”

Us, he said?

Before I could reply, the door opened.

Thorne entered, with Arion and Axton close behind, all three wearing carefully measured expressions of concern.

“We rushed over as soon as we heard,” Axton said, adjusting my pillow as if he’d always been there.

“I only noticed your missed call late last night,” Thorne added. “You should’ve kept trying.”

I looked at them quietly. “Where were you?”

“Council matters,” Thorne answered too quickly. “You know how it is.”

No, I don’t.

Because it was our bond anniversary.

Because you claimed my sister.

Because you replaced me without hesitation.

But I stayed silent.

“I’m here now,” he said more gently, brushing my hair back. “I won’t leave.”

I turned my face away. “I need the washroom.”

“You can’t walk,” he said at once. “I’ll carry you.”

He lifted me carefully, and for one dangerous moment, it felt like the past—like the Alpha I once loved hadn’t vanished.

Then the illusion broke.

Arion burst through the door.

“Thorne! Hurry!” he shouted. “Rionna collapsed!”

Thorne froze.

“What?”

“She fainted,” Arion repeated urgently.

And just like that, Thorne’s arms slackened.

He let go.

I fell hard onto the stone floor, my back slamming down, my injured ankle screaming in agony. But he didn’t look back. Not even once.

He ran out, already calling Rionna’s name.

Then what about me?

I curled inward, shaking, humiliated, shattered—until a different pair of arms carefully lifted me up.

I blinked through my tears and looked up.

Dark hair. Warm brown eyes.

“Ardyn…?” My voice barely carried.

The healer I once knew.

Ardyn Valemont.

The one who once stayed. The one who disappeared without explanation.

A faint smile touched his lips.

“Still finding ways to get hurt?” he murmured.

I couldn’t speak.

He brushed a loose strand of hair from my face.

Then, softly, sincerely, he said—

“Rayna… do you want to disappear with me?”