Ivy’s POV

I could smell the scent of red roses before I even stepped into the dining hall. It wafted in from the hallway—faint but cloying, triggering an itch in my throat and a sting in my wolf’s nose. My wolf, whimpered low inside me.

He did it again. He never remembered. After two years of marriage, Alpha Ethan still couldn’t recall that my wolf hated roses. The pollen sent her into sneezing fits, and the scent only agitated her. But Farah loved them. Of course she did.

I swallowed the tightness in my throat and pushed open the grand oak door to the pack house’s formal dining room. Inside, the table was already set—steak, greens, a bottle of aged red wine—and at the center of the table was a sad bouquet of red roses, half-wilted, petals already drooping like they couldn’t wait to die.

Alpha Ethan looked up from his seat with a wide, oblivious grin. “There you are,” he said smoothly, standing to approach me with something clasped in his hand. “Happy second anniversary, Ivy.”

He held out a single rose, its stem crooked and its head already drooping. I stared at it, feeling the pulse of my wolf’s irritation rise in my chest.

“Do you remember our first dinner as married couple?” he asked. “I got you these. You liked them, right?”

I took the flower wordlessly, my fingers brushing the pollen. My wolf snarled inside me. I forced my expression to remain neutral.

“It was Farah who liked them,” I said quietly. “I’m allergic.”

He blinked at me, confused for a moment, then chuckled like I’d told a harmless joke. “Right, right. My mistake.” He sat back down like nothing had happened.

My stomach turned, but I reminded myself why I was here. I reached into my coat and pulled out the envelope I’d spent the last three weeks preparing. The elder had told me Ethan needed to sign it himself before I could relinquish the Luna title and dissolve our union under pack law.

I placed it in front of him, beside his plate. “Sign this.”

He glanced down at the envelope and raised an eyebrow. “Is this another report for the land dispute with Westline Pack?”

Before he could open it, the door behind me opened again, and the air shifted. A soft, familiar giggle floated into the room like a curse. Farah stepped inside like she owned the place, her hair in waves, her dress hugging every curve. She beamed at Ethan. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, of course not,” the alpha said, his eyes lighting up in a way they never did with me. He stood immediately, abandoning the envelope, and went to greet her. “Come sit. We were just about to eat.”

He pulled out a chair for her—my chair—and guided her in like she was royalty. I watched in silence as he fussed over her, cut her steak perfectly, poured her wine, all while my flower lay forgotten on the side, its pollen floating into the air. My wolf’s anger buzzed through me, and I sneezed once, sharply.

Neither of them noticed.

“I heard the patrols are picking up rogue scent trails again,” Farah said casually, dabbing her lips with a silk napkin. “Maybe we can inspect the borders together after this?”

Ethan nodded eagerly. “That’s a great idea. We’ll go after lunch.”

I stared at them, heat burning behind my eyes, not from jealousy but from the sheer humiliation. He hadn’t even opened the envelope.

When they finished eating, Ethan finally reached for the document. He didn’t even glance at the title—“Formal Resignation of Luna Duties and Dissolution of Marriage”—before scrawling his signature across the bottom.

“There,” he said, distracted, his eyes back on Farah. “Handled.”

He didn’t ask what it was. He didn’t look me in the eye.

I watched him walk out with Farah, his hand resting on the small of her back, both of them murmuring and laughing as they left the dining hall behind.

The moment the door closed, I exhaled and closed my eyes. He didn’t even care.

I had loved him once. Deeply. Foolishly. I had married him knowing we weren’t fated. I had taken the Luna title to keep our two packs in alliance, to prevent scandal after Farah had run off with her fated mate years ago. I thought he might grow to love me if I stayed. If I proved myself. If I endured.

But now I knew the truth. I was never more than a placeholder.

Even after the truth of my lineage came out—how I, not Farah, was the true daughter of the Snowland Pack Luna—my family had chosen to protect Farah’s image instead. She was the perfect one, the precious one. And I… I seemed like the shameful result of a mistake, despite being born from the true Luna. I was the humiliation when it was Farah who was born out of our father’s mistake.

They let Farah return to Ethan like nothing had changed when she came back to the pack. I didn’t even know what happened to her and her fated mates. One day, she just came back again, wanting to take everything from me.

And Ethan? He didn’t even try to hide it anymore. He stopped coming home some nights. He started whispering to her in corners. I overheard him one night, when he thought I was asleep, say to Farah, “I never loved Ivy. She was just someone to fill the space you left behind.”

That was the moment I stopped hoping.

I opened my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t used in two years. It rang twice before a deep, familiar voice answered.

“…Ivy?”

“Alpha,” I said, my voice steady. “I need you to come get me out of Foreland Pack. I’ll be ready once the elder confirms everything is finalized.”

I looked at the envelope now sitting in the center of the table, Ethan’s careless signature smeared slightly by steak grease.

“Happy anniversary, Alpha,” I whispered bitterly.

Ivy’s POV

I sat alone on the edge of the bed that used to be mine and Ethan’s—though it had been cold on his side for over a year. The silence pressed in around me, suffocating, so thick it was as if the very walls bore witness to my despair.

The room, once filled with warmth and the scent of lavender from my oils, now reeked of loss. The love I had once clung to like a lifeline was long gone, replaced with the bitter stench of betrayal.

I stared at the phone in my hand, my thumb hovering over the call button. I hesitated, swallowing hard.

With a deep breath, I pressed it.

The line connected almost immediately. “Ivy,” came Alpha Vincent’s voice—deep, commanding, and unmistakably angry. His tone was a blade wrapped in velvet. “To what do I owe this unexpected call?”

I gripped the phone tightly. “I… I need your help.” I sighed and opened my mouth to explain, “I need you to come get me out of Foreland Pack. I’ll be ready once the elder confirms everything is finalized.”

Silence followed. When he finally spoke, there was a bitter edge to his words. “Help? After all these years of silence? After choosing Ethan over me?”

The guilt was immediate. “I made mistakes… I know. I thought I knew what I wanted.”

He scoffed. “Mistakes, huh? I offered you everything, Ivy—mateship, love, a future. And you ran toward the first wolf who sweet-talked you into believing he could give you more.”

“I thought he would learn to love me,” I whispered, hating how small my voice sounded. “I thought I made the right choice.”

“And now you see the truth,” he snapped. “What do you want from me?”

“I’m leaving him,” I said quietly. “But I need time. There are things I have to handle before I go.”

Vincent paused, his voice lowering. “You have two weeks. After that, if you’re not free from him, I will come and take what’s mine.”

Then the line went dead.

I let the phone slip from my hand, the dial tone humming in my ears. Vincent’s words clung to me like a second skin. His possessiveness hadn’t changed—but neither had his desire to protect me. I didn’t know whether that comforted me… or frightened me.

That night, sleep never came. I drifted through the Luna quarters like a ghost, fingers trailing along polished wood and velvet curtains. I found myself opening drawers and pulling out gifts Ethan had given me over the years.

A ruby necklace. Beautiful, expensive… but impersonal. I always preferred emeralds, the color of nature and healing.

An orange handbag. Vibrant, bold—Farah’s style, not mine. I preferred soft sage greens, muted earth tones.

A golden bracelet, elegant but cold. Silver felt more like me—softer, quieter, but stronger in its own way.

It was all so clear now. Even in the things he gave me, Ethan had never really seen me.

When dawn broke, I heard the front door creak open. Ethan walked in, rumpled and exhausted. The scent of another woman clung to him like a curse. Farah.

His eyes scanned the items laid out on the table. “What’s all this?”

“Just things I no longer need,” I replied, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. “Perhaps Farah would appreciate them. They seem more her taste.”

He didn’t respond. No anger. No concern. Just a slight nod, like I’d offered him nothing more than spare clothes to donate. The indifference in his eyes was worse than rage.

Suddenly, a crash echoed through the room.

We both turned to see Farah, her wide eyes fixed on the shattered remains of our wedding photo. A huge wedding photo… of me and Alpha Ethan.

“Oh no,” she gasped, feigning innocence as she knelt beside the shards. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to knock it over.”

Ethan rushed to her side, his face etched with worry. “Are you hurt?”

Farah shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “Just startled.”

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest like she was the most precious thing in the world. “Nothing is more important than you and your safety.”

I stood there, frozen in place. The jagged glass between us mirrored the chasm in our relationship—once whole, now irreparably shattered.

“It’s fine,” I muttered, kneeling to pick up the pieces. One of them sliced my finger, and blood welled up instantly. I ignored it.

Then, after shattering the wedding frame like nothing, I saw how Farah lifted her head, her eyes gleaming with mock concern. “Alpha… I don’t feel safe alone right now… my staff is off-duty. Could I stay here for a while?”

“Of course,” Ethan replied without hesitation. “Take the Luna quarters. It’s the most comfortable.”

He didn’t even glance at me. He didn’t care whether I agree or not.

I left the room silently and moved into the guest room. The air was stale. The furniture cold. The mattress stiff. This room had never been meant for a Luna.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My face looked hollow. The circles under my eyes, the pale tint to my cheeks—it was as if being with Ethan had drained the life from me.

Tears fell freely now. Not just from heartbreak. But from the years I’d lost. From the woman I had let myself become. I had given up my strength, my fire, for a wolf who only saw me as a convenience.

But no more.

That night, I opened a blank page in my old journal and began to write—not about Ethan, not about the betrayal—but about myself. My thoughts, my pain, and the things I would never again sacrifice for someone else’s approval.

I wasn’t a mere second option.

Ivy’s POV

For two years, I’ve worn the Luna title like an ill-fitting cloak—heavy, burdensome, never truly mine. And even after all this time, Alpha Ethan and I don’t share a bed.

He once told me, “I just sleep better alone.” But the way he said it—the way he wouldn’t even look me in the eye—told me what he really meant. He didn’t want to sleep beside me. Me, specifically.

Today, as the late sun cast long shadows through the tall windows of the pack house, Ethan stood in the middle of the hall and announced that Farah would be staying for a while. Not just staying—she’d be taking the Luna quarters.

My quarters.

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t argue. I gave a small nod and murmured, “Alright.” I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for a reaction, probably even expecting a fight. But I was too tired. There was no point fighting for a place I was already being pushed out of.

When I turned away to begin packing, his footsteps echoed down the corridor—and just like that, he was gone. Again. With Farah.

In my old room, sunlight streamed through the windows, painting golden streaks on the carpet. I stood in the middle of the space I once tried so hard to make feel like mine. Now, it just felt hollow.

I pulled down a framed photo from the shelf—our wedding photo. The same one Farah knocked over earlier that morning. The glass was still cracked, but I hadn’t had the heart to throw it away. As I laid it flat inside the box, I didn’t see the broken edge sticking out.

My hand slipped.

“Shit—” I gasped as I fell to the floor, my knee landing squarely on the jagged glass. Pain shot up my thigh like fire, hot and biting. Blood immediately began to trickle down my leg, staining the hem of my dress. The wound wasn’t small—it was deep, and I could already feel the skin around it swelling.

But when I looked toward the door, it was empty. No footsteps. No scent of my so-called mate. He hadn’t even noticed I’d hurt myself. He hadn’t bothered to check on me.

I bit down hard on my lower lip, swallowing the sob that threatened to escape. My fingers trembled as I pressed the edge of my shirt against the bleeding wound. This pain was nothing compared to the one in my chest.

Not once in two years had he offered me comfort. Not when I had nightmares. Not when I was sick. Not even when I was kidnapped and thrown to rogues like a piece of meat.

Farah waltzes in and he hands her my bed, my room, my title—like it all belonged to her all along.

By sunset, I’d finished moving out of the Luna quarters. I carried the last box into one of the guest rooms, limping slightly as the pain in my knee worsened. The smell of antiseptic still clung to my hands after treating it myself. No healer had been called. I didn’t want to give anyone another reason to whisper about me being “too weak to be Luna.”

When Ethan finally returned, still smelling faintly of Farah’s jasmine scent, he glanced at the stack of boxes lining the hallway.

“Why are you packing up so much stuff?” he asked, his tone casual—as if the past few days hadn’t turned my world upside down.

I gave him a small smile. “Just clearing things I don’t need anymore.”

His brow twitched, but he didn’t press. “Farah’s just staying temporarily.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

He said nothing else and walked away.

Later that night, he informed me, in a clipped tone, that we’d be attending the Alpha Gathering.

“You want me to come?” I asked, surprised.

“You’re still Luna, aren’t you?” he said flatly. “You’re expected.”

Right. Of course. But I wasn’t the only woman on his arm that night.

Farah came too, draped in emerald silk, her glossy hair braided with moonflowers. She looked radiant. Ethan didn’t hide the way he admired her. The way his eyes trailed her every movement.

We arrived at the venue, a towering hall lit by chandeliers and filled with the scent of power and polished silver. Alphas from across the region mingled in tailored suits, their Lunas standing gracefully beside them. When we entered, the host—a thickly built Alpha from Granite Ridge—approached us with a warm smile.

“Alpha Ethan, Luna Ivy—how lovely to see you again.”

Before I could even return the greeting, Ethan corrected him.

“She’s not my Luna,” he said quickly, gesturing toward me with barely a glance. “This is Farah—daughter of the Snowland Pack.”

The host blinked in confusion, then quickly recovered with a courteous nod. “Of course.”

I said nothing. Not a flicker of pain showed on my face. But inside, I felt something wither.

He didn’t even call me by title. Just my name. Like I was no more than a former acquaintance tagging along.

We sat at our table, and I tried to swallow the bitterness building in my throat. My wolf stirred uncomfortably in my chest, restless, angry, humiliated.

But then something strange happened.

As I sat there, staring at the golden-rimmed plates, my stomach turned. A strange scent filled the air, faint but intoxicating. My heartbeat picked up, and my palms grew clammy.

I inhaled again, sharper this time.

That scent. My wolf suddenly lifted her head, ears alert.

She began to pace inside me, growling low with confusion and… anticipation?

The scent was pulling at her. At me. Like a magnet. Like fire to dry wood. It wrapped around my senses and squeezed.

I couldn’t breathe.

“I need some air,” I said quickly, rising to my feet. The room was suddenly too loud, too bright, too suffocating.

I didn’t wait for Ethan’s permission. I slipped through the side door of the hall, heart racing.

Because that scent didn’t belong to Ethan.

And whoever it did belong to… my wolf recognized him.

And that terrified me.